


Schemes (Are Not Just for Melodramatic Bond Villains)

by atimi (bertee)



Series: CWRPF: Schemes [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Domestic Violence, Dubious Consent, Homophobic Language, M/M, Rape/Non-con References, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-18
Updated: 2008-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-02 03:40:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 49,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/364571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bertee/pseuds/atimi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While broadening his gay horizons, architect!Jared meets waiter!Jensen at a strip club. Jensen is shy, Jared is smitten, and Jeff is a smarmy bastard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Jared stared morosely out of his car window.

The lurid neon sign stared mockingly back and he was certain that if it could talk, it would be yelling "Chicken shit!" at him.

Fortunately for Jared and the laws of nature, the pink sign had not magically gained the power of speech and thus contented itself with displaying the name of the Cut-n-Thrust strip club to anyone in the vicinity who felt the urge to watch oiled up men taking their clothes off.

The urge had not quite struck Jared yet, but he was working on it.

Well, he was working on working on it. His brain was currently occupied by just how crappy "Cut-n-Thrust" was as a name for a strip joint, but when he finished deciding whether it sounded more like a Zorro-themed orgy or the To Do List of a murderous necrophiliac, he fully intended to work up the courage to leave the warmth of his car and go inside. Really.

His brain got over this hurdle quicker than he expected, helpfully pointing out that a) it was his job to design houses for ridiculously rich people and not to critique the name of strip clubs, and that b) he was still being a chicken shit. When he immediately started to weigh up the pros and cons of staying in his large, comfy Jeep instead of going outside, it then told him in no uncertain terms that his car still stank of wet dog after Harley and Sadie's latest puddle escapades and that he should get the hell out and go look at some naked men, goddammit.

Yielding to his higher reasoning, he pushed the car door open with a melodramatic sigh, wrapping his coat round him as the cold Vancouver air blasted his body, and headed reluctantly toward the club, making a determined mental note to kill Chad the next day.

That evening's trip, like many of his ill-advised activities, was the brainchild of his friend and fellow architect, Chad "I specialize in disturbingly phallic swimming pools" Michael Murray. Upon learning that Jared was struggling to find a boyfriend due to his entirely heterosexual social set, Chad had enthusiastically embarked on his unique version of Straight Eye for the Queer Guy in order to expand Jared's gay lifestyle and hopefully snare him a boyfriend.

He'd first sent him to Gay Sex Addicts Anonymous (which Jared hadn't even known existed) with the reasoning that since those guys were getting laid too much and Jared wasn't getting laid at all, the gods of gay sex would somehow make it all balance out. The deities in question were evidently elsewhere when he'd attended, however, and he'd left with unpleasant mental pictures of exactly what could fit up someone's ass, but without anybody's phone number.

Plan B was no better, this time involving Chad driving Jared to one of the "most varied" sex shops in the city with the instruction to loiter near the buttplugs. When he'd asked why, Chad had confidently explained that he was supposed to watch for people buying one for themselves - apparently you could tell from their behavior whether it was going in their own butt or someone else's - and then ask the guys in question if they'd rather have his cock up their ass instead. Before Jared could regain the power of speech after hearing this plan, Chad had already hustled him out of the car and driven off, leaving him to wander awkwardly around the shop until he was thrown out for accidentally setting off a vibrator and throwing it at the clerk in his panic.

And so he had reached Door Number Three: the male strip club. This one was probably least illogical, in that strip clubs were apparently where Chad got most of his girlfriends, but that didn't make Jared feel like any less of a freak for looking for a relationship in a strip joint. He'd tried to persuade Chad to come with him, but had been met with a snort of laughter and the statement that "No way in hell am I watching some dude in assless chaps floss his ass on a pole."

It wasn't until he'd made it through the door that he was faced with the terrifying prospect that Chad Michael Murray might actually be psychic.

The club itself was unremarkable, with low lighting along the walls, an oddly sticky floor, and tables and booths flanking a stage that jutted out into the center of the room. Contrary to Jared's previous guesses, the clientele was not solely made up of over-excitable gay men, but groups of giggling women, gay and straight couples, and the usual drunk sweaty loners sitting near the front and visibly drooling over the performers.

It was these performers which firmly separated this club from any of the others that Jared had been to in his college years. Instead of a woman with large breasts and badly-dyed hair, the stage at Cut-n-Thrust now proudly showcased a half naked cowboy sporting messy brown hair, a grin the size of Texas, and - oh, God - assless chaps.

He watched uncertainly from his position by the door as the cowboy leapt easily up the tall silver pole, one knee hooking around it as he swung slowly down, sinking low enough to allow the gaggle of women at the edge of the stage to stuff bills inside his chaps and thong. The women did so with enthusiasm, hands wandering greedily over the stripper's legs and butt as he winked cheerfully at them before springing back to his feet and taking slow strides over to a second, fully-dressed cowboy who had emerged to raucous cheers and wolf-whistles.

When the first cowboy started peeling the shirt off the blond newcomer, Jared was jolted back to reality and away from the Brokeback Mountain re-enactment by a nudge from behind him as a new group of customers tried to get around the 6 foot 4 Padalecki road block and into the club. Mumbling a quick apology, he moved hurriedly out of the way, edging along the wall and falling into a tiny booth with all the grace of a drunken yeti.

Comfortably inconspicuous, he surveyed the club again, tearing his eyes away from the cowboys on stage (who had now moved on to rhythmic groping) to notice for the first time the cowboys scattered around the club; some carrying trays of drinks, some grinding against particularly wealthy customers, and all wearing brightly colored hotpants and matching Stetsons. Apparently the club was having a Paint Your Wagon (Pink) themed evening.

"Can I get you anything?"

Jared jumped at the sudden voice at his side. Instantly panicking that he was about to be jumped by Woody the Lapdancing Cowboy, he scuttled back into his booth in an attempt to get out of range.

"Sir?"

Deciding that he was definitely, definitely going to kill Chad in the morning, Jared forced a smile on his face and looked up at the speaker for the first time.

He sighed in relief when he saw that the speaker was clothed.

He sat up and started paying attention when he saw that the speaker was hot.

After taking in the plain black pants and tee he wore, Jared's attention switched to the guy underneath the clothes, eyes raking over his tanned arms, broad shoulders, wide green eyes, and kissable lips (and since when was kissing the first thing he wanted to do with a guy's lips?)

He was too busy cursing the fact that the guy was apparently the only clothed Cut-n-Thrust employee to register what was being said to him and couldn't stop himself from blurting out the first thing that came to mind when faced with the man's expectant stare.

"You're, uh- You're wearing clothes."

His brain caught up to his mouth a moment too late, but before he could properly express that no, he was not a creepy, sweaty pervert, the hot non-stripper replied with a half smile, "Yep. If all the waiters gave individual performances, no-one would ever get any drinks in this place."

Jared blinked. His brain fumbled for the helpful chunk of memories on 'How to Hold a Conversation Like a Sane Person' before eventually coming out with, "So, you're a waiter?"

The guy nodded, smile widening a little. "Sure am. Got myself a tray and everything." He held up his round black tray in mock demonstration. "Can I get you something to drink?" He seemed to remember Jared's earlier words as he added, "Or if you're looking for a dance, I can find you someone..." He glanced over at the stage where Blond Cowboy was now cheerfully lassoing Brunette Cowboy. "Chris and Steve should have finished their set soon; they're both good at personal performances." He looked around the club, continuing before Jared could stop him, "Or there's Mike, in the pink hat, if you want someone a little wilder? Tom - blue hat - is really flexible if you'd prefer-"

Cutting off the recitation of the stripper menu, Jared passed him a note with a smile and a request, "Just a beer and a shot of Jim Beam, thanks. Keep the change."

Receiving a quick nod in return, Jared watched as the waiter disappeared around the corner of his booth and then turned his attention back to the club. Bypassing the gyrating cowboys on stage, he started to notice other non-stripping staff dotted around the club, all wearing the same black uniform as his waiter and all concerned with distributing drinks rather than providing entertainment, although, from what he could see, that didn't make them immune from wandering hands.

He occupied himself with deciding which of the dancers he'd prefer to see putting clothes on rather than taking them off, and another question had sprung to mind by the time his waiter returned with his drinks.

"Do you ever dance?" Green eyes narrowed in confusion and Jared elaborated quickly, hoping the subtext of 'Can I ever watch you take your clothes off?' wouldn't be too noticeable, "Here, I mean. Do you switch off on who dances and who waits tables?"

His shoulders slumped when the waiter shook his head, full lips quirking up in amusement. "No, the same guys dance every night. Well, I guess they have different shifts on different nights, but it's always the same people who perform and the same people who wait tables." His eyes flickered back to Jared's as he added with a good-natured shrug, "Not like anyone's going to want to see me strip anyway."

Jared conveyed his disagreement by involuntarily spewing his whiskey across the table.

The fact that none of the alcohol had apparently made it into his bloodstream didn't stop him from stating with ill-advised candor, "Dude, I would totally want to see you strip."

The waiter's mouth parted in surprise at the admission, his cheeks flushing pink in embarrassment, and Jared resisted the urge to smack his head against the wooden table as his brain caught up to his mouth for the second time that evening.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry- I didn't mean-" Taking a deep breath, he tried again, "I'm not some creepy stalker, I swear. And I'm not about to start groping you or anything; I just..." He flashed him a small smile. "It was a compliment, I guess."

The other man did not look convinced but shrugged it off with practiced ease. "I've heard worse."

He tugged a cloth out from one of his belt loops and leaned in to wipe the alcohol from the table.

The alcohol that Jared had oh so smoothly spat out a few moments earlier.

"Wait, wait," he stammered quickly, really not wanting to lower the guy's opinion of him any further. "It's alright, just leave it." He fumbled for the cloth, trying to snag it out of the his hands and do it himself. "I'm sorry - I'll clean it up."

The waiter held on, attempting to wipe the table down as he said in polite disagreement, "Don't worry about it, sir; it's my job."

Jared didn't let up, protesting good-naturedly, "It's my drink, let me get it."

When his efforts to grab the cloth proved futile, his hand closed playfully around the waiter's wrist. He'd barely lifted his arm an inch when the other man froze up, pulling quickly against him. Jared instinctively tightened his grip but regretted it as soon as the waiter's eyes shot up to meet his, a mixture of surprise and panic flashing through them.

He let go like he'd been scalded, yet another apology spilling from his lips, "Jeez, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay," the waiter interrupted, professional smile back in place as he wiped up the remaining liquid while Jared was distracted. He gestured to the now empty shot glass. "You want another one of those?"

He shook his head, looking down at his beer. "I'm good." The guy nodded and moved to walk away, but Jared called out before he could stop himself, figuring that he couldn't do any more damage than he already had, "Wait!"

The waiter paused, looking at him expectantly, and he gave him what he hoped was his most endearing and least insane expression. "Listen, I'm an idiot, okay? I promise, I'm not planning on grabbing you or ripping your clothes off or anything; I just wanted to talk." He extended his hand, smiling hopefully. "My name's Jared. Uh, Jared Padalecki. I'm an architect, I live in the city, and could I sound any more like a personal ad right now?"

The other man's lips curved up in a genuine smile and some of the tension ebbed away as he stretched out his hand in return, offering quietly, "Jensen."

Feeling wildly (and probably irrationally) successful now that'd held managed to initiate some semblance of conversation, he edged back into the booth, subtly inviting the waiter (Jensen) to come nearer as he asked, "How long have you worked here?"

The ploy worked, and Jensen moved to lean against the booth as he answered, "About four years now. It's a good job; the club's a nice place to work."

Jared raised his eyebrows, looking around the less than classy club. "Okay..."

Jensen smirked, his own gaze following Jared's as he spoke earnestly, "I know it doesn't look like much, but it's better than the places I've worked at before. The guys here like what they're doing, and they're good at it, there's usually a nice atmosphere, and Jeff's a great manager."

"Jeff?" he prompted, keen to keep the conversation going even if it meant talking about guys he couldn't care less about.

Something indefinable passed across the other man's face at the mention of the name, but his smooth facade settled back in place as he explained, "Jeff Morgan. He, uh, he owns the club. Has done for years. He was the one who hired me."

Making an intuitive leap, Jared asked uncertainly, "Are you two..."

The waiter nodded. "About three and a half years now."

"Wow." Jared gave a low whistle. "Sounds serious. Congrats." He didn't know whether he was imagining Jensen's smile getting tighter but changed the subject nonetheless. "So are most of the staff here gay, or is this just a job for them?"

Jensen's shoulders relaxed a little. "Are those two mutually exclusive?" Seeing the confusion on Jared's face, he explained, "As it happens, most of my colleagues are gay, but that doesn't mean this is anything more than a job." He grinned. "Not all gay men want to hang out in strip clubs."

Jared tried his best not to look so intrigued by this revelation, as weeks with Chad had indeed convinced him that the priorities of any self-respecting gay man were sex, buttplugs, and strippers, but he managed a non-committal "Oh."

Jensen was not fooled, and chuckled briefly. "Let me guess; fresh out of the closet?"

"No!" he protested vehemently. It was true; he'd been certain he was gay by age fourteen. It was just the other aspects of it that caused him problems. "Well, not exactly. I just haven't had that much experience with... y'know."

"With men?" Jensen visibly tensed up. "Look, Jared, this isn't a brothel. These guys might be strippers but they're not whores-"

"I know that," he interrupted quickly, feeling guilty for causing the offended tone in Jensen's voice. "I'm not here for that. I've had, uh, sexual experience with men."

"Then what's up?" Jensen asked curiously, becoming interested instead of annoyed.

Taking a large gulp of beer, Jared sighed. Apparently somehow in the last five minutes, he'd gone from Friendly Conversation to Extreme Overshare, with a pitstop at Uncomfortable Awkwardness."I can't believe I'm talking to you about this. I'm sorry."

The other man shrugged it off. "Like I said, I've had people telling me worse things. As long as you don't start giving me a play-by-play of what you want to do to the dancers, we're good."

Reassured (and also wondering if Jensen had met Chad at some point as that was an oddly accurate description of his friend's behavior), he ventured an explanation, "I haven't really had much social experience with guys. I mean, all my friends are straight, and I usually hang out with them, so it's not like I get a chance to meet anybody or go to clubs or be part of the whole 'scene'."

Suppressing his wince at his own use of audible air quotes around 'scene', he barreled on, not unlike a runaway train speeding helplessly to TMI-ville. "Don't get me wrong, I still get dates, but it's been a long time and I felt like I should be more 'out', y'know?" He rethought his choice of wording. "Not 'out' as in the closet sense, but 'out' as in the door sense. Like out in the real gay world, watching strippers, buying buttplugs, the whole nine yards. Only it really isn't working out so well 'cause I'm all clumsy and awkward and freaked out and telling people they should be strippers and throwing vibrators at people and-"

He was cut off by a surprised snort of laughter, and looked up to see Jensen with a confused smile on his face. "You threw vibrators at people?"

Jared stared at his beer, a blush creeping up his cheeks as he corrected miserably, "Vibrator, singular. One vibrator at one person and it was only because it scared me." Jensen raised his eyebrows and Jared looked at him with a pout. "What?"

"Nothing," the waiter reassured quickly, barely hiding his smirk. "Just trying to work out if that counts as fight or flight."

Shoulders slumping, Jared took a long swig of beer. "Shut up."

Another genuine smile crossed Jensen's lips and Jared was mildly annoyed by the fact that his desire to sulk fizzled out in the face of said smile, figuring it was unfair that the man's grin apparently had magical properties.

Luckily, before Jared could comment on the awesomeness of Jensen's grin and make himself sound even crazier in the process, the waiter spoke up, his voice calm but tinged with amusement, "You do know that not all gay guys visit strip clubs, right?" At the look on Jared's face, he continued with admirable patience, "Just because they all like men doesn't mean they're all wired the same way; some people like this kind of place, and some would be happier socializing at a gay book club. It's exactly the same with straight guys; you have to figure out where you're most comfortable."

Jared blinked. "They have gay book clubs?"

The grin was back, and Jared started to wish that people would always respond to his dumbass comments with a smile like that.

Jensen shrugged. "Guess you'll never know till you look."

Having fulfilled his role as Jared's gay Yoda (if Yoda were really hot and worked in a strip joint), he turned to walk away, prompting a rushed, unsubtle question from the bottomless Padalecki store of rushed, unsubtle questions, "Where do you hang out?" Jensen turned back and he clarified, "When you're not working. Where do you go for fun?"

The other man smirked, asking pointedly, "With my boyfriend?"

"Yeah," he confirmed, hoping his tone didn't convey the 'boyfriend, schmoyfriend' thoughts currently circling like vultures. "Where's a good place to go in this city?"

"You're already in one."

Both Jensen and Jared started a little at the unexpected interruption, and Jared tried to hide his annoyed frown as a well-built man in a suit appeared next to Jensen. Clapping the waiter on the shoulder and flashing a grin and a wink in Jared's direction, he continued with his sales pitch (which seemed a little redundant as Jared was already in the club), "This here's the best place in this whole town for some good, clean, adult entertainment."

Jared let his eyes travel to the stage, where Brunette Cowboy was currently riding Blonde Cowboy like a horse, and answered with purposeful skepticism, "Right..."

The newcomer just chuckled, landing another hearty slap to Jensen's shoulder and nearly knocking the younger man over with the force of the blow. "Can't blame things for getting a little wild on Cowboy Night." He extended his hand to Jared, smiling wider at the same time. "Name's Jeff Morgan. I run this place."

He shook briefly. "Jared Padalecki. I, uh, visit this place."

Another chuckle, and as jolly as the man sounded, Jared was fervently wishing he would take his Santa impression elsewhere so he could continue his fumbling attempts to hit on the guy's boyfriend. The boyfriend who had retreated back into his shell at full speed with the appearance of Jeff.

"Pleasure to meet you, son. Can Jenny get you another drink?"

Eyebrows raised at the nickname, Jared's gaze darted to Jensen, only to find him staring resolutely at the floor as a red flush crept up his neck and over his cheeks. Cheeks which Jared only just noticed were covered in oddly adorable freckles.

Pulling himself out of his "Oooh. Freckles." trance, he gave Jeff a tight smile, fingers closing around the beer glass as he answered, "I'm good, thanks."

Jeff's grin never faltered. "Alright. Guess we'll let you get back to the entertainment; I'm sure you've got better things to be looking at than Jenny here." Jared opened his mouth to disagree, but the older man slipped his arm around Jensen's waist in an unmistakeable 'We're outta here' gesture and concluded quickly, "Have a good evening, Mr Padalecki. Just holler if you need anything."

With a final wink, he and Jensen moved smoothly out of the way, leaving Jared with an unobstructed view of the stage and the unhappy realization that Jeff had just stolen his Jensen. (And yes, he knew that Jensen wasn't technically his, what with slavery being illegal and all, but he couldn't help but feel a little possessive of the shy, hot, gay Yoda who'd still talked to him even after he'd spat his drink all over the table like a socially challenged camel.)

Taking a large gulp of his beer, he briefly debated giving Jeff the suggested holler and requesting some more Jensen time (which in Jared's mind was the same level of awesomeness as Hammer time, only without the comedy pants), but then decided that Jeff was probably the kind of asshole who would actually pimp out his boyfriend on request and so decided to settle for something more subtle.

Admittedly, Jared wasn't especially adept at subtlety, with surprise tackle-hugs being about as sneaky as he got, so he resolved to take Jensen's advice and try out the other types of establishments Vancouver had to offer in his quest to broaden his gay horizons.

If he happened to end up back at Cut-n-Thrust and meet Jensen again, that was just a lucky happenstance.

If this entirely unplanned visit happened to include Chad and thus make Jared appear even more incredible in comparison to his reasonably douche-like buddy, well, that was just a fortunate coincidence.

Pleased with his awesome master plan, he settled back into the booth, all but "Mwahaha"ing into his drink.

If the architect thing didn't work out in the long run, he definitely had Evil Genius as a fallback option.


	2. Chapter 2

Jared figured he deserved some kind of medal.

He'd lasted an entire week without visiting the Cut-n-Thrust strip club, and an entire week without seeing the adorably shy waiter with whom he was a little tiny bit infatuated, and in his opinion, that level of self-restraint was definitely shiny-medal-worthy.

True, he hadn't managed to get through more than a twelve hour period without thinking about Jensen, with thoughts ranging from jerk-off fantasies involving full pink lips to extraordinarily complex plans to rescue Jensen from the big bad Jeff and thus live happily ever after, but he decided that as long as he kept his borderline-obsessiveness in his own mind and didn't start loitering behind the guy's trash cans, it was all good.

In between bouts of Jensen-based daydreams, he'd actually taken the man's advice regarding his limited social interaction with gay men. On Jensen's recommendation, he'd set out to explore the new and exciting world of the Vancouver gay district in order to find out where he was comfortable hanging out.

The local leather club did not fall into this category. On the first night of his gayscapades, he'd lasted all of fifteen minutes in the appropriately named "Filth", during which time he was asked whether there was anything currently up his butt, whether some scary dude with creepy eyebrows could put a collar on him, and whether he'd like to wrestle naked in Jello for money. After answering "No" to all of the above, he'd fled like a bat out of an overly handsy hell and sworn off Jello for the foreseeable future.

The second night proved just as bad, but at the opposite end of the spectrum. Admittedly, he didn't come away with any new aversions to foodstuffs, but after spending an hour at what felt like a conference for gay librarians, he decided he preferred a little more "life" in his social life. (Some morbidly curious part of him did want to stick around, however, if only to see whether they had tweed cock rings and lube scented with "that new car smell".)

The next few days passed in a blur of awkward come-ons, sticky floors, and multi-colored cocktails. Jared promptly forgot the names of the three institutions he visited, blaming it on emotional trauma, but mentally referred to them as "Woodstock with Frottage", "Overly Perky Rollerdisco Orgy", and "Goths Like Buttsex Too!" and swore never to darken their doorways again.

He had found one halfway-tolerable night spot with good music, a good atmosphere, and non-terrifying clientele, but spent most of the evening comparing everyone who approached him to Jensen. This arrangement benefitted absolutely nobody, as Jared managed to inspire an inferiority complex in all his possible dates due to the constant comparisons to the quiet, gorgeous Texan waiter, while at the same time increasing his somewhat irrational obsession with a man he'd spoken to for all of five minutes.

Finally, on the Thursday night, he'd spent the evening hanging out with his buddies, drinking beers, watching the game, and subtly persuading Chad to come to Cut-n-Thrust with him the next evening. Chad being Chad, Jared's subtle persuasion had been more of the "Hey, wanna come see people get naked?" variety rather than anything more devious, but Chad had readily agreed, never being one to turn down strip-club-visiting opportunities.

Jared had, however, neglected to mention the sex of the people who would actually be getting naked, but he decided that any impending retribution was worth it, just to see the current look of horror on Chad's face as his friend caught sight of Chris and Steve on the stage, one in the middle of discarding an orange jumpsuit and one twirling some handcuffs around his finger suggestively.

"Holy shit..."

Jared tried to hide his grin as Chad turned back to face him, eyes wide in what looked suspiciously like terror. "Dude, what the fuck?"

He feigned innocence. "What?"

Chad was not fooled, and repeated slower (as though Jared didn't get the point the first time around), "What. The. Fuck?" Gesturing wildly at the performers on stage, he protested, "These are guys. Guys."

Jared looked up to see the brunette stripper - he still wasn't sure which one was Chris and which was Steve - drop his jumpsuit to the floor, leaving him in a striped thong that left nothing to the imagination.

He looked back at Chad. "What gave it away?"

Chad glowered, looking as menacing as one could with strippers playing cops and robbers in the background. "Look, dude, if you want to hang out somewhere over the rainbow, that's fine with me, but gay recruitment drives? Not cool." He waved his hand toward the stage. "Watching Officer Blondie strip-search his cowboy buddy is not my idea of a good time."

Grinning at the description of the longish-haired brunette, Jared commented, "Y'know, the last time I was here, they had this lasso..."

He trailed off as Chad's expression veered from horrified to homicidal, and decided that now was not the time for cowboy stripper anecdotes.

Making himself look as apologetic and puppy-dog-like as possible (again, difficult when surrounded by strippers), he addressed his friend while moving to stand between Chad and the exit as a last resort, "Okay, I'm sorry I didn't tell you what kind of club this was, but I'm not trying to recruit you, I swear. Last time I was here, I met this guy who works here as a waiter, and so I didn't want to come back on my own-"

"And be one of those freaks who thinks they're in a relationship with someone they barely know?" Chad filled in helpfully. Jared opened his mouth to agree, but his friend cut him off bluntly, "Sorry, bud, you're already there."

He clapped Jared on the shoulder and moved for the exit, only to walk straight into the determined and immovable Mt. Padalecki.

Chad scowled up at him. "Dude, move your Sasquatch ass."

Jared folded his arms across his chest, the gesture informing Chad that his "Sasquatch ass" would be staying put until further notice. Before protests could ensue, he said firmly, "You owe me one."

Chad sighed. "For the hooker in Tijuana? Because I swear, I had no idea she was a dude."

"I was actually thinking of the spatula issue in Atlantic City..." His smile widened again. "But I guess you owe me two." His hand landed on Chad's shoulder a little harder than necessary and he led him further into the club. "Enjoy the entertainment."

"You're an asshole, you know that, Padalecki?"

Jared flashed him a broad grin. "You love me really."

It was only when a voice behind them inquired, "Special occasion, guys?" that Jared realized it might not have been the best idea to declare Chad's love for him in a predominantly gay club.

Turning round, he was relieved to find that the voice was not Jensen's, but instead belonged to a stripper wearing a police hat, a pair of tight blue boxers reading "Officer Mike", and very little else.

Getting no response from either Chad or Jared, Officer Mike tried again with a friendly smile. "This an anniversary for you two or something?"

Before Jared could politely and tactfully explain that no, he and Chad did not have any kind of romantic attachment to each other, Chad apparently blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "I fuck women."

To his credit, Officer Mike seemed unfazed by this Tarzan-esque declaration. "Of course you do, honey." He tilted his head, eyeing Jared carefully as he addressed Chad, "I bet he looks great in a dress and stockings."

Jared experienced what could only be described as a mental flail at that unwelcome image but regained his composure quicker than Chad, and corrected with an awkward laugh, "We're not, uh, together. Well, not like that. Obviously we are together since we came together, but 'came' in the 'visited' sense not in the, uh, other sense, because we don't- Okay, I do, but he doesn't and-"

Luckily for all involved, Chad cut in with his usual amount of finesse, "What Bigfoot is trying to say is that he fucks guys, I fuck girls, and we don't fuck each other. Ever. The only reason I'm even in this place is because he's crushing like a teenage girl on-"

"Jensen!"

Ignoring the two other men, Jared set off across the club when he spotted the man in question, barely able to keep the goofy grin off his face. Catching Jensen's eye and sliding into an empty booth, he waited impatiently for the waiter to weave his way through the other customers, feeling a little like a child on Christmas morning (if said child had asked Santa for a really, really hot waiter in their stocking.)

Hoping Jensen hadn't heard him bellow his name across the club, Jared looked up at him with what was intended to be a friendly smile rather than a manic grin, and said casually, "Hey, Jensen."

Lost in his inner victory dance at not having made a complete fool out of himself (yet), Jared almost missed it as Jensen frowned a little, a tentative smile touching his lips as he asked, "Uh, Jared, right? Paladecki?"

"Padalecki," he corrected easily, his enthusiasm unaffected by the mistake. It had taken Jared five years to be able to pronounce his last name properly; it was unfair to expect Jensen to manage it after a week.

"Right," Jensen nodded, relaxing a little. "You were the guy who didn't know where to hang out."

Jared sighed in relief, murmuring under his breath, "Oh, thank God." At Jensen's baffled expression, he explained, "I thought you'd only remember me as the guy who spat his drink everywhere." He face-palmed. "And I can't believe I just reminded you of that."

"The drink thing happens a lot more often than you'd think." Jensen smiled. "And I actually had you down as the guy who threw vibrators at people."

Jared groaned good-naturedly. "One vibrator, dude. One. Didn't we cover this last time?"

He fought back a whoop of success as Jensen's smile widened into one of those dazzling grins he wanted to bottle and sell (or more accurately, horde and keep for himself.)

However, the kibosh was promptly put on their fledgling bonding as Chad reappeared, plopping to a seat next to Jared and asking with disgust, "You put one vibrator where last time? Man, that's kinda unsanitary." He looked over at Jensen. "Do they pay you extra for that, or is it on a tip by tip basis? 'Cause there's this girl down at Strip-o-Rama who does this thing with a cell phone-"

"Oo-kay," Jared interrupted, not sure really what to say but wanting desperately to say something before Chad traumatized another innocent person. "I could die happy without ever hearing the end of that story."

"Yeah, well, I could've died happy without 'Officer Mike' offering to strip-search me." Chad glared at him. "Unfortunately, that's an image I'll take to my grave." He glanced over at Jensen as he instructed, "I'll take three shots of vodka and a beer."

Seeing Jensen about to vanish again, Jared intervened. "Wait a minute."

Chad glared at him. "Don't judge my coping mechanism."

He held up his hands in defense. "Not judging. I just wanted to introduce you." He gestured as he spoke, "Jensen, Chad. Chad, this is Jensen."

The emphasis in his voice was noticed even by Chad, who quickly put two and two together and came up with a noise of comprehension. A very, very loud noise of comprehension followed by, "So this is the guy you were talking about?"

He looked at Jensen with renewed interest, tilting his head as though that would magically make him think like a gay man. Observation completed, he turned back to Jared, speaking in an impossibly loud whisper, "Y'know, when you said he worked in a strip club, I figured he'd be better-looking."

Jared's mouth fell open at the statement, and he watched Jensen's eyes drop to the floor as Chad carried on regardless, "I mean, you've got a bunch of seriously buff guys walking round almost naked, and you drag me here to see this guy? Have you learnt nothing in the years we've been friends? You gotta quit aiming so low, dude." Finished, he turned back to Jensen with a wide, fake smile, evidently unaware that the waiter had heard every word he'd just said. "Those drinks whenever you're ready, man. Get a beer for my buddy here as well."

It nearly killed Jared to see Jensen's professional smile back in place as he took Chad's proffered note, nodding politely as he answered, "Yes, sir."

The second he moved away to the bar, Jared slapped Chad around the back of the head as hard as he could.

"Motherfucker!" Hand flying to his head, Chad glared at Jared in angry surprise. "What the fuck was that for?"

Jared cuffed him again. "Because you're a fucking dickwad."

Hunched slightly to guard against further blows, he stared up at him in confusion. "What the hell are you on, bitch?"

"Something pretty fucking strong if it made bringing you along seem like a good idea. What the fuck was that, Chad?"

"What?" he asked, genuinely confused. Jared smacked him a third time for good measure. "Oww!"

"That, dumbass. What you said to Jensen."

"About the drinks? Dude, he's a waiter. It's kinda in the job description."

Jared resisted the urge to hit him a few more times, ideally till unconsciousness set in. "Not about the drinks, asshole. About me aiming low with him."

Chad held up his hands. "Can't blame a guy for speaking the truth."

Jared sent up a quick prayer for strength. Or a Chad-targeted lightning bolt. Whichever was easiest.

Taking a deep breath, he tried the reasonable approach. "Look, when you were going out with that blonde chick, did I tell her that she looked like a five dollar hooker?"

"No, but-"

"And when you were flirting with those twins last month, did I say that crackwhores probably had fewer diseases?"

"Not in public-"

"And when you were trying to hook up with that girl from Texas, did I tell her she had more ass cleavage than a builder?"

"No..."

"Then why the hell did you tell Jensen that all sane people should be more interested in oiled up strippers than in him?"

"I-"

"And you have a voice like a fucking foghorn so don't tell me that he didn't hear every single fucking word."

Realizing his own voice was reaching 'fucking foghorn' levels, Jared took a calming breath and looked expectantly at a shell-shocked Chad, who said sincerely, "Sorry, man." He shrugged apologetically. "I didn't realize you liked him that much. I mean, a club full of naked guys, and you pick the mousy waiter one? Just trying to make sure you know what you're doing."

Jared opened his mouth to argue, but closed it again as he realized he didn't have the slightest clue what he was doing. He didn't know why he was hitting on a guy who was already in a relationship, he didn't know why he'd had the bright idea to bring Chad along, and he didn't know how he was going to apologize to the already self-conscious waiter for embarrassing him even more.

Dejected, he slumped in his seat. "I have no idea what I'm doing, but I do know that you need to keep your mouth shut and be nice."

Chad smirked, clearly aiming to lighten the mood as he teased, "Or what?"

Jared smirked right back at him. "Or I'm buying you a lapdance."

He felt his spirits lift a little at the sudden pallor of Chad's face but swallowed hard when Jensen returned, depositing the drinks on the table with brisk (if not brusque) efficiency, and asking out of habit, "Can I get you guys anything else? Chips? Peanuts? Private dance?"

Giving Chad a 'take a hike' nudge in the ribs, Jared looked up at the waiter, trying to get a read on the effects of his friend's earlier outburst as he said, "Listen, Jensen, I'm really sorry about what Chad said before. He's a douchebag-" Chad made a small noise of indignation as he moved away from the table but Jared continued anyway,"-it's kinda his thing; he didn't mean anything by it."

Jensen shrugged, wearing a smile that didn't even attempt to reach his eyes. "You don't need to apologize, sir. People come here for the performers, not the wait staff."

Heart sinking a little at being referred to simply as 'sir', Jared fumbled for something to say to remedy the damage caused but guessing that "you're gorgeous, I've been thinking about you all week, and your boyfriend may be a bigger douche than Chad" would be a little inappropriate at this juncture. A topic of conversation did present itself, however, and as much as Jared didn't want to bring it up, it was the only thing he knew about Jensen other than the "Me wants" verdict his brain produced.

Seeing Jensen turn to leave, he bit the bullet. "So, how's Jeff?"

Jensen whirled back, surprised. "What?"

"Jeff," Jared repeated, hoping none of his bitterness seeped through into his tone. "Your boyfriend."

"Yeah, I know who he is." Jared may have been hallucinating in the aftermath of his Chad-induced homicidal rage, but he could've sworn Jensen's lips curved up in a tiny smile. "You remembered that?"

Going for casual banter not scary stalker, he shrugged. "Hey, you remember my inability to function in gay society, I remember the name of your boyfriend. Everybody wins."

And no, he was not hallucinating; that was an actual smile.

Spurred on by his success, he asked again, clawing his way back to the friendly conversation they shared before Chad happened, "How is Jeff? Is he oiling up the strippers somewhere?" Jensen's smile vanished and Jared's mind clicked onto the different connotations 'oiling up' might have in a room full of gay men. "Oh God, I didn't mean- I'm sorry, I-" He sighed, looking pitifully at the waiter as he asked with genuine regret, "Why don't I come with subtitles?"

The smile was back, and Jared took a moment to bask in the green eyes, and the freckles, and the smile, and the general awesomeness of Jensen. (He didn't know until then that it was possible to bask in a person, but Jensen definitely had an air of baskability about him.)

"Don't worry." Jared moved from basking to focusing as Jensen continued, "I knew what you meant. No subtitles needed. Anyway, Jeff's not here tonight - he's away on business - but I can give him a message if you want?"

Jared spent a moment seriously considering leaving Jeff a Post-It reading "I'm in ur strip club steelin ur boyfriend" before realizing that a) he needed to spend far less time looking at cat macros, and b) the diem was there and ready to be carpe'd. Or more precisely, that Jensen was there and carpe-able. (And dear god, he needed to stop making up new adjectives for Jensen.)

Holding back a cackle of triumph, he answered calmly, "No, it's fine. I was actually looking for you."

Confused suspicion crept into Jensen's eyes. "Me? Why?"

Jared mentally discarded at least four inappropriate answers before settling on, "I just wanted to say thanks. Y'know, for helping me out last week with the whole 'social retard' thing."

"Oh." The waiter seemed to relax a little as he asked uncertainly, "Did it go okay then? You found somewhere you like hanging out?"

Jared shrugged, said "Eh," and then realized he'd been living in Canada for way too long. "It's been okay," he elaborated. "I found a lot of places I don't like hanging out in, so that's gotta be worth something, right?"

Jensen grinned. "Right. You're halfway there."

Jared slapped the table, gleeful at the actual presence of banter. "Exactly. The leather club makes me want to take a long bath so I won't go back there. That's useful stuff to know."

Amused, Jensen raised an eyebrow. "You went to a leather club?"

"Hey, I'm expanding my horizons," Jared defended playfully. "You never know, I might be a natural at tying people up and spanking them."

There was a sudden awkward silence as Jared and Jensen both dealt with the repercussions of that mental picture.

"So what brings you back to Cut-n-Thrust?" Jensen asked, injecting an impressive amount of curiosity into what was blatantly an attempt to change the subject. "I didn't have you down as a guy who likes tucking dollar bills into g-strings."

"What can I say," Jared answered teasingly, "I love guys in uniform." His gaze fell on Jensen's own work uniform and he coughed in embarrassment. "I, uh... Actually, I wanted to ask you something."

"I don't give head for money," Jensen answered quickly before immediately flushing bright red when Jared's mouth fell open in surprise. Dropping his head in shame, the waiter apologized nervously, "I'm sorry, I- I get that a lot, and I just wanted to..."

He trailed off, embarrassed, and, like a pre-teen girl with a baby animal, Jared felt the sudden urge to hug Jensen in reassurance. Falling a little further in love with him at the knowledge that they now shared the habit of blurting out stupid things at inopportune moments, he said good-naturedly, "Wow, my actual question's going to sound pretty normal after that."

Jensen's eyes flickered up from the ground, some of the blush fading away as he realized that he wasn't being mocked by Jared. Certain that he had Jensen's full attention, Jared took the plunge, praying for a smooth dive instead of his traditional belly-flop, "I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime. For a meal or something. With me."

He could practically feel the waiter tense up at the question, the atmosphere seeming to drop a few degrees as Jensen looked at him with a mixture of nerves and distrust. Expecting a slap across the face or some other form of outright rejection, Jared was left speechless when the other man asked with quiet confusion, "Why?"

Jared blinked, floundering a little at the question and repeating in an effort to stall, "Why?" Coming up blank, he was left with as truthful an explanation as possible, "Because I like you."

Jensen looked surprised, but Jared continued, "Because after a whole week meeting more gay men than I've met in my entire life, you're the one I want to hang out with most. Don't get me wrong, I'm not hitting on you, or trying to come between you and your boyfriend; I just wanted to say thanks for helping me out last week." He smiled up at him. "Please? It's just a dinner. A casual, non-romantic dinner between friends." Jensen still looked hesitant and he coaxed further, "C'mon, it'd be great to have a conversation without people stripping in the background, or without Chad opening his stupid mouth. What do you say?"

The pause that followed was one of the most excruciating moments of Jared's life, second only to the horrific pause as his younger sister's wedding cake plummeted slowly to the floor from his outstretched hands. Hoping his relationship with Jensen wouldn't be destroyed in the same splattery way as the cake, he watched hopefully for an answer, or at least a sign that the waiter wouldn't come after him with a set of steak knives like his sister did.

"Okay."

Jared started. "What?"

"Okay," Jensen repeated shyly. "I'll come have a casual, non-romantic dinner with you."

Jared's grin could probably have been seen from space. "Really? That's awesome. I- Wow." Having braced himself for the likelihood of rejection, he was caught off guard by his sudden success and blurted out, "Saturday?"

Fortunately, Jensen was remarkably adept at filling in the holes in Jared's thought processes, and shook his head ruefully. "Can't do Saturday. The club's busy on weekends."

"Oh. Okay." Hopeful smile. "Sunday? What happens at a strip club on Sundays?"

"Priest special," Jensen deadpanned in reply to the rhetorical question. "Gene and Ace have got quite a flock."

"Monday?"

"Extra-long 'Back to Work' happy hour."

"Tuesday?"

Jensen paused before nodding slowly. "I can do Tuesday. The club's closed for the whole day, and Jeff's out of town until Thursday."

Buoyed by this extra piece of information, Jared sat up, pulling his cell out of his pocket as he grinned. "Great, Tuesday it is." He passed his phone to Jensen to enter his number, saying happily, "I'll pick you up at 7. There's this great Chinese place I know; its egg rolls are, like, the best things you will ever eat. Oh, and the beef in black bean sauce is practically the food of the gods. If the gods ate Chinese." He wrinkled his brow. "Do you think God likes Chinese? 'Cause those wafer things they used to give out at church were kinda gross; you'd think God would replace them with prawn crackers or something."

The amused look was back on Jensen's face. "You wish Jesus had turned his body into prawn crackers?"

Jared pursed his lips. "Maybe I haven't thought this through..."

"Give it some thought." Shifting his tray back under his arm, Jensen moved to leave, adding playfully, "You know I'm expecting a solution when you pick me up next week?"

Jared saluted. "I'm on it."

Another question occurred but he was pre-empted by the evidently omniscient Jensen, "I'll text you my address. You'll lose it if I write it on a napkin." Before Jared could applaud his psychic powers, Jensen was almost halfway across the club, speaking with a timid smile before he got lost in the crowd, "See you next week, Jared."

"See ya!" he yelled back, feeling like a complete idiot when various customers and strippers then turned around to look at him.

He sank back into the cover of his booth, barely able to keep the grin off his face at the fact that he was going on a date the following week. Admittedly, he was the only one who knew it was a date rather than a "casual, non-romantic dinner" but he was sure that Jensen would soon be overwhelmed by his awesomeness and realize that he should be dating Jared instead of Jeff the Asshole.

Taking a triumphant swig of beer and still feeling like he was floating, reality only began to sink back in when he found himself wondering how exactly the beer had come to be in front of him.

He eyed it suspiciously for a few moments, as though the beer had poured itself and hopped over to Jared's table for his drinking pleasure, before the pieces of the Chad-filled jigsaw puzzle fell back into place, and he remembered that he had actually come with a friend, been annoyed by the douche-tastic behavior of the friend in question, and then told said friend to fuck off so he could talk to Jensen in private.

Which left him with a club full of strippers and a missing Chad. The possibilities were endless.

Pushing himself to his feet, he scanned the club, paying extra attention to the dark spaces under the tables where he half-expected to find Chad curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth, and mumbling incoherently about being accosted by male strippers.

He was so focused on looking under the tables that he almost missed seeing Chad.

On top of a table.

Dancing.

Half-naked.

With Officer Mike.

Understanding for the first time his friend's initial horror at the sight of male strippers, Jared composed himself and hurried across the club to where Chad and Mike were grinding enthusiastically as a group of cheering women stuck bills into every remaining item of clothing. Towering over the women, Jared caught his friend's eye easily, and Chad leaned down as Jared whispered frantically in his ear, "What the hell are you doing?!"

Chad shrugged, standing back up and stretching out his arms as though he was a god being worshipped (and knowing Chad, he probably thought he was.) Looking down at Jared, he grinned widely and said with an incredibly sleazy wink, "Dude, I am totally getting laid tonight."


	3. Chapter 3

Jared's week had been very productive.

On Thursday, he'd literally hauled Chad's ass out of the Cut-n-Thrust strip club after his friend had become a little too involved in proceedings, managing to strip down to his Superman boxers before Jared had dragged him off the table and hustled him home. Chad had drunkenly charged him with cockblocking, but on Friday morning Jared had found a large bottle of whiskey sitting on his doorstep with a note that was a mixture of "Thank you so much" and "Breathe a fucking word to anyone and I will feed your balls to hungry piranhas".

On Friday, he'd been ridiculously excited at the prospect of his non-date with Jensen.

On Saturday, he'd continued with Friday's project.

On Sunday, his heart had plummeted faster than the speed of sound when Jensen had called him from work, Son of a Preacher Man blaring in the background to remind him he was missing the Cut-n-Thrust priest special, and told him that he couldn't make dinner on Tuesday as Jeff was at home and Jensen had to stay to attend to the bastard's every whim. It was possible that the 'every whim' aspect was Jared's own bitter paraphrasing, but the point still stood.

However, before Jared could pout like a baby whose candy had just been stolen, Jensen had offered to meet him for lunch on Tuesday instead, which was the equivalent of snatching candy from a baby, only to then give said baby some new, tastier candy in exchange. And yes, Jared had happily dwelled on the candy metaphor during a couple of late night fantasies involving lots of nibbling, licking, and sucking.

He'd happily agreed, deeply relieved that Jensen hadn't been physically present and so didn't see him grinning like a crazy person at the news. (Sadie and Harley had been present, however, and had shared Jared's glee by cheerfully shredding his latest blueprint for a condo. Jared had yet to bring himself to care.)

On Monday, he'd come to the realization that he actually knew very little about the man with whom he was going on a non-date. Aside from his first name, occupation, and boyfriend, Jensen remained an enigma to Jared. Jared had never dealt well with enigmas, figuring that since he was the type of person who happily announced to a stranger that he was socially retarded when it came to gay men, everyone else should be equally open.

He'd therefore made a useful list of Things to Discover About Jensen on their First (Non-)Date, including basic information such as family background, taste in music, food preferences, type of car driven, non-work clothing style, and the ever-helpful last name. Foolishly, he'd left this list lying on his table when Chad visited and found it had been retitled 'Things a Teenage Girl Jared Padalecki Wants to Know About the Jonas Brothers Jensen the Gay Waiter' by his ever-helpful friend.

And so he'd reached Tuesday.

Tuesday had so far seen him spend at least thirty minutes choosing an outfit, five minutes checking his teeth for stray bits of Gummi Worm, twenty minutes flattening his hair down to something that didn't look like it had encountered a plug socket, and a further ten minutes selecting a hat to conceal the failed attempt at hair flattening. The entire process took precisely sixty-three minutes longer than his usual fumble-and-sniff approach to preparing himself for society, and that didn't even include the time he then spent angsting about the best way to pick Jensen up from his apartment.

He'd ruled out showing up at the door to the apartment itself, since he figured he'd probably revert to his inner puppy mentality and bombard an unsuspecting Jensen with overly-friendly bear hugs as soon as he opened the door, and eliminated staying in his car outside and honking the horn loudly to let Jensen know he was waiting, a technique he'd used on Chad so many times that his friend had now developed a Pavlovian reaction to any car horn. He'd also decided against the Normal Person approach, i.e. parking outside and ringing Jensen's buzzer, because that could lead to Jared being invited up to Jensen's apartment and the aforementioned puppy behavior would undoubtedly ensue.

Instead, after careful thought, he'd opted to call Jensen's cell when he was approaching his building and inform him he'd be there in a few minutes. He'd then reacted with a mixture of shock and awe when his cunning plan had actually worked, and Jensen had told him he'd meet him outside.

Unfortunately, Jensen had not arrived outside by the time Jared reached his building and, as so often happened, Jared was powerless to prevent his mind wandering off like an unsupervised child in a grocery shop, gravitating towards the shiniest thing in the store. Unsurprisingly, Jared's mind had bestowed the title of "Shiniest Thing in the Store" on Jensen, and so Jared now found himself leaning against his SUV, staring up at the apartment building and lost in Jensen-shaped thoughts.

At the moment, these thoughts consisted of what Jensen's last name could possibly be, since Jared was fairly certain that Jensen's mother and father had actually given him one. So far, he'd come up with a last name beginning with each of the letters 'A' through 'S' and was about to discard 'Trotter' on the perfectly logical grounds that saying "Jensen Trotter" out loud made his tongue feel slightly furry and he couldn't have fallen this hard for a guy whose name had that effect. True love wouldn't be that cruel.

Eliminating 'Trotter' as a candidate, he moved on to 'U', proclaiming experimentally, "Jensen... Umlaut."

Ignoring the fact that Umlaut was a highly improbable name choice, Jared couldn't stop himself from picturing Jensen in punctuation form and deciding that he was a sick, sick man when he found comma-Jensen strangely adorable.

Now thinking about the logistics of punctuation sex (and seriously wishing he wasn't), he scanned the windows of the apartment building in the hopes of clearing his mind of thoughts of parentheses double-teaming an ellipse and moaning, "Oh baby, don't leave me hanging."

Thoroughly disgusted with his own brain, he turned his thoughts to marginally more productive matters as he soldiered on through the alphabet in his quest for Jensen's last name.

"Jensen Vance."

Pause. Discard.

"Jensen Walker."

Pause. Discard.

"Jensen... Xerxes?"

His brain made a valiant attempt at imagining Jensen as a Middle Eastern warlord charging at people with a sword and a manly yell, but couldn't get there, instead slipping into a deeply unnerving fantasy in which Jared was an Arabian sheikh and Jensen was naked except for some strategically placed question marks. This not only made Jared feel a little like he was watching the porn version of Sesame Street, brought to him by a large felt question mark, but also made him realize that he really needed to get laid if he was starting to sexualize grammar.

Forcing his attention back to the task at hand, he murmured aloud, tapping his foot nervously on the sidewalk and staring up at the building, "Jensen Yang?"

"No, dear. I'm Rosa."

Jared flung himself backwards with a yelp upon hearing the voice from somewhere near his armpit, only narrowly avoiding pimp-slapping the old lady who was now looking up at him in confusion. "Were you talking to me?"

Feeling his heart start to return to normal rhythm, he shook his head weakly, "No. No, I wasn't."

"Oh." The woman looked mildly depressed at this news for a moment, before squinting at Jared and asking suspiciously, "Are you a spy?"

Jared's eyebrows raised. "A what?"

"A spy, dear," Rosa repeated calmly. "You know, with those code words and secret rendezvous points and exchange of information. You say 'Jensen Yang?' and then if the other person's a spy, they say 'There is a fat pigeon in Moscow' or something." She looked up at Jared with a smile, as though expecting him to confirm that yes, he was actually waiting there for someone to come up and tell him about overweight Russian birds.

He managed a smile. "Sorry, not a spy. I'm just waiting for a friend." Rosa's eyes lit up and he clarified, "Who isn't a spy. We're just going for lunch..." Rosa did not look convinced, and Jared gestured pointedly to the building, "He lives here. His name's Jensen."

"Bond?" Rosa interjected hopefully.

"Zucker," Jared lied. "Jensen Zucker. He's not a spy. Honest."

Rosa frowned up at him as if to say 'I wasn't born yesterday, you sneaky Russian spy', but wrapped her entirely unnecessary scarf tighter and started to move off, muttering under her breath, "Just wait till I tell Harriet that I saw a real-life spy..."

Jared breathed a sigh of relief as she vanished around the corner, only to jump at yet another unidentified voice asking in amusement, "Zucker?"

Whirling round, Jared broke into a grin when he saw Jensen standing on the steps of his building, a small smile on his face as he informed him, "It's Ackles. Jensen Ackles." Jared's grin broadened at the intentional James Bond reference and Jensen added calmly, "But I can see how you'd get it confused with Zucker."

Jared looked surprised. "Really?"

"No," Jensen stated honestly, then gave a half-shrug as he added, "I was just trying to be polite."

Overwhelmed by the adorableness of the admission, Jared's brain promptly shut off, and any witty reply was beaten out by the blunt observation, "Hey, I never knew you wore glasses."

If Jared's brain had hands of its own, he was pretty sure it would have used them to facepalm at that moment.

Jensen dropped his gaze to the ground as he answered quietly, "Yeah, I, uh, I've got contacts, but my eyes were watering and I was already late so I just..." He looked up at Jared. "I can go put them in, if you wan-"

"No, no, it's fine," Jared interrupted, slightly stunned at the fact that Jensen would follow Jared's preference on whether he wore glasses or not. "I mean, if it's easier for you, I don't mind waiting." He moved closer, watching the waiter blink up at him as he confided, "But I kinda like the glasses."

Jensen's cheeks flushed a little at this confession and Jared was overcome with a sudden and inexplicable urge to kiss his nose.

Fortunately for them both, he resisted, worried that he was beginning to adopt the 'Noses make excellent chew toys' mentality of his dogs, and stepped back, taking in more of Jensen than just the glasses.

His jeans, shirt, and camel-colored sweater all looked to have been worn within an inch of their clothing-lives, with the self-repairs on the collar and sleeves visible to even Jared's untrained eye, but he decided that, even with the age of the clothes, the semi-preppy look definitely suited Jensen. Of course, it also made Jared want to toss him over his shoulder, carry him up to his apartment, and ravish him enthusiastically, but he opted not to share this opinion, instead commenting with a smile, "You look... great."

It only dawned on him that his pause could be misconstrued when Jensen hunched in on himself in embarrassment, fingers playing with the worn sleeves of his sweater as he stammered, "I know they're not the nicest, but I- we don't really go out much, except to the club, and Jeff always says it's a waste to spend money on clothes we'll never wear, so..." His eyes raised again, and this time Jared realized that Jensen was trying to read his reaction as he offered nervously, "Look, if you don't want-" He took a breath and tried again, "We don't have to..."

For once, Jared's mind seemed to be firing on all cylinders, and the pieces of the puzzle, plus those of an accompanying remedy puzzle, fell neatly into place. Understanding what Jensen was trying to say, and desperately wanting to smack Asshole-Jeff upside the head for making Jensen even consider backing out of a (sorta-)date because of his clothes, he put his counter-plan into action.

"Hey, I wasn't being sarcastic." His hands rested lightly on Jensen's arms as he said sincerely, "You look great. Really. So great, in fact, that I have a favor to ask." Jensen looked up again with interest now that the focus was off him and Jared shot him his most persuasive smile. "I was kinda hoping you'd come shopping with me."

He took a moment to remind himself that turning into a teenage girl was for the greater good, while Jensen asked, perplexed, "Shopping?"

"Yeah." He slung an arm around his shoulders and started to lead him to the waiting SUV. "I thought I could use some help picking out stuff, and since you're apparently doing it right, you seemed like the best person to ask."

Jensen's brow wrinkled. Jared wanted to kiss him there too. "Doing it right?"

"You've got a boyfriend, don't you?" He grinned, letting the 'But he's an asswipe and you should be dating me instead' part of the comment go unsaid. "You're way ahead of me there."

Heading round to his door, Jensen smiled uncertainly. "You know there isn't, like, a gay man's uniform, right? You really don't have to dress a certain way to get a boyfriend."

For someone living under the thumb of his own partner, Jensen was remarkably good at giving life advice.

Pulling his door shut, Jared shrugged. "Yeah, I get that. Doesn't mean I don't wanna look a little less like a hobo."

Jensen looked offended on his behalf. "You don't look like a hobo."

Despite the fact that he was happy with his non-hobo status and that he'd essentially manipulated the compliment, Jared grinned anyway. "Thanks." The car pulled out of the space as he said with enthusiasm, "I know some great stores. Plus, they're really close to Xiung Hu's where there will definitely be some prawn crackers with your name on them."

"What, Jensen Zucker?" the waiter asked playfully.

A surprised smile spread across Jared's face and he contemplated setting up a small shrine in Jensen's honor for being able to deal with the unsubtle plans and/or the epic awkwardness that so often occurred in Jared's daily life. Deciding cult-formation wasn't high on the list of suitable first non-date activities, he settled for teasing sarcasm in return.

"Funny. I don't exactly remember you getting my name right either, smartass."

"Hey, do you know how many customers I have to deal with in a week?" Jensen protested good-naturedly.

"Yeah, but how many of those come with stories about throwing vibrators? I'm memorable."

"Your momma must be so proud."

Jared groaned melodramatically. "You did not just say that." He rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand. "I did not need any mental pictures involving my momma and a vibrator. Jeez..."

He rubbed the other eye (as though that could somehow erase the thoughts from his brain) and glanced quickly over at Jensen, worried that any prolonged silence meant the other man had become a quiet little ball of nerves again.

This fear was abruptly dismissed when he actually saw Jensen, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips as he commented, "Try washing sweaty thongs on a daily basis and then tell me about unpleasant mental pictures."

This time, the level of melodrama in Jared's groan would have put Shatner to shame. "Oh God..."

However, he did then manage to hold back a Caruso-level groan when he realized that he found Jensen's mini-cackle at his expense ridiculously cute. Cursing himself and his teenage-girl-tendencies, he tried to drag the tone back to a civilized conversation. "I thought you were a waiter? How come you're on thong duty?"

Jensen shrugged. "Most of the dancers aren't really that organized; Chris and Mike would rather walk around naked than do their own laundry. I just do whatever they need me to do."

Jared had a strong suspicion that 'they' referred more to Jeff than to the strippers but, in what had to be a first, managed to keep his mouth shut, really not wanting to raise the subject of Jeff any more than necessary. (Jared's definition of necessary stretched to 'So you know Jeff, your boyfriend? You mind if I kill him? No? Awesome.') 

Forcing a smile, he commented, "Guess it must be worth it." Jensen frowned and he elaborated. "You live in a really nice building. I remember studying the architect's work in college - he did some great stuff."

"Yeah," the other man said quietly. "It's great. It's mostly Jeff's place though; he was living there for years before I moved in."

Foiled in his Jeff-avoidance schemes, he quickly changed the subject and, having learned Jensen's last name, clothing choices, and where he lived, moved on to the next item on what Chad now called his Jonas Brothers List. Reaching for the radio, he clicked it onto a classic rock station, asking casually, "So, what kind of music do you like?"

+++

By the time they'd reached the first store, parked, and gathered up an amount of clothes that only someone Jared's size could carry, he'd made impressive progress through said list. During the short car ride, he'd learned that Jensen was twenty-six (two years older than him), originally from Texas, and a fan of football and Led Zeppelin but not of basketball or N*Sync. (Jared kept his own affinity for Pop quiet after absorbing this knowledge.)

He'd also found out that Jensen liked old cars but didn't have one, either getting rides with Jeff or walking as the older man apparently thought that letting Jensen buy a car and not catch hypothermia in winter was a waste of money as well. Quietly plotting a horrible death for Jeff, Jared had then hauled the mountain of clothes to the dressing rooms and there decided to find out just how horrible Jeff's death would be.

Tugging on what had to be the world's fugliest shirt, he stumbled out of his cubicle and barreled straight into Jensen's with his usual disregard for personal space, calling loudly, "Hey, what do you think of this one?"

Jensen backed up in surprise at Jared's intrusion, shrinking back against the wall with his shirt clutched to his bare chest. Jared felt a twinge of guilt as he watched Jensen try to regain his composure at being confronted with a six-foot-four yeti in a blue and purple shirt, but couldn't help feeling relieved when he subtly observed that Jensen's arms and torso were free from bruises. True, Jared still wouldn't turn down the chance to tear Jeff a new one, but he was glad not to have to add 'beating on Jensen' to the list of Reasons Why Jeff Was A Bastard.

"It's, uh, interesting..."

Jared blinked, lost in his thoughts. "Huh?"

"It's interesting," Jensen repeated, staring at the shirt that Jared had almost forgotten he was wearing. The waiter leaned closer, squinting at the shirt. "Are those unicorns?"

A quick glance down confirmed that yes, Jared was wearing a shirt decorated with interlocking blue unicorns.

He gave Jensen an apologetic grin. "Guess I should avoid mythical creatures on shirts then?"

Jensen smiled, still hiding nervously behind his own shirt. "That's always a good rule."

Jared beamed. "What would I do without you?" Never intending to buy the lurid shirt in the first place, he turned his attention to Jensen, gesturing to the shirt in his hands as he said cheerfully, "Try that one on. Looks like your color."

The other man looked like he wanted to protest, or at least to kick Jared out of the cubicle, but silently acquiesced, moving the dark red shirt away from his torso and slipping it over his shoulders. As unobtrusively as possible, Jared let his eyes dart over Jensen's chest and stifled an appreciative groan at the sight. Although he was a little too skinny in places, the waiter's uniform he usually wore really didn't do Jensen justice, and Jared swallowed hard as Jensen looked up at him for approval, his expression open, trusting, and more vulnerable than he'd seen before, "What do you think?"

Hating that 'I really want to kiss you right now' was not an acceptable answer, Jared settled for a nod as he said sincerely, "Awesome. You look awesome."

"Thanks," Jensen murmured shyly, holding Jared's gaze for what felt like the first time that day. "It's a nice shirt."

Tentatively, Jared took another half-step forward, relieved when Jensen didn't back off again, and reached out on the pretext of feeling the material of the collar. "It suits you."

Jensen's tongue darted out to wet his lips and he said in barely more than a whisper, "You have good taste."

Gaze moving from full pink lips to big green eyes, Jared replied softly, all too aware of Jensen's body inches away from his own, "So do you."

His hand moved easily from the collar to Jensen's face, feeling the heat radiating from the other man's skin as his thumb skimmed the freckles decorating his cheek. Chest to chest, he could hear and feel Jensen's shallow breaths but he stayed still under Jared's touch, head tilting slightly in unconscious permission even as he murmured, "Jared, I-"

"Gentlemen!"

Jared and Jensen jumped apart at the loud interruption, turning to see an assistant standing in the cubicle doorway, evidently oblivious to what he was interrupting. "How are the clothes-" The newcomer caught sight of Jared in his unicorn shirt, and all but launched himself at him, "Oh, that looks delightful! Don't you just love the details on this? A fine piece of work, and it definitely suits you, Sir."

Panicking at little at the grabby hands of the assistant, Jared let himself be dragged out of the cubicle and in front of the mirror as the man prodded and poked at him, all the while cooing to Jensen, "Oh, doesn't he look fabulous? You're lucky to get your hands on this one; I bet he was a real find. And big feet too... You know what they say about men with big feet."

Jared saw Jensen struggle to contain a snort of laughter as the assistant winked at him, but he tried and failed to fight his way free as the overly helpful salesman ushered him back into his own cubicle, advising, "You should try that vest on with the forest green shirt, honey. Suede goes divinely with that shade."

Helplessly, Jared glanced over at Jensen, catching the briefest glimpse of his troubled expression before the door was pulled shut, leaving Jared to the mercy of the assistant.

+++

It turned out that the only way to make the assistant, who turned out to be named Brendan, go away was to buy clothes.

Lots and lots and lots of clothes.

Jared had reluctantly obliged, not protesting on account of monetary issues, but more on the principle that he really didn't want a tasseled belt and matching jeans. Nevertheless, after battling with Brendan for over half an hour, he'd managed to work his way down to a slightly less gigantic pile of clothes, most of which he did actually like (although the less said about the plaid wife-beater, the better.) This outcome, however, did have its plus points, namely that, because he was buying a ton of clothes for himself, it didn't take much persuading for him to add some clothes for Jensen to the pile, calling it a thank you for helping Jared with the difficult chore of shopping.

Jensen didn't look entirely convinced by this reasoning, but after Jared had threatened to sic Brendan on him, the waiter had relented and had accepted Jared's gift, albeit with many protests. Many, many protests. Even when they'd consumed an entire crispy duck between the two of them and were wandering back to Jared's car eating ice cream, the protests still kept coming.

"You really didn't need to buy me clothes," Jensen commented for what had to be the twentieth time. "Really." Then, more to himself, "I don't know why I didn't just say no..."

"You didn't say no because you like the clothes," Jared cut in, licking chocolate ice cream from his bottom lip. "That, and Brendan had just pinched your ass. You would've agreed to anything to get out of that store."

He flashed him a chocolatey grin and Jensen nudged him playfully in the ribs. "That didn't mean you had to take advantage."

"Hey, I did not take advantage!" Jared's hands flew up in a gesture of mock outrage, and before Jensen could warn him, his ice cream succumbed to the force of gravity and dropped from the cone to the ground with a wet squelch. Jared's lips curved down into a pout at the same time that Jensen's curved up into a smirk, and he glared miserably at the waiter. "Don't say a word."

Jensen held up his hands, not making Jared feel any better when his ice cream stayed nestly snugly in the cone, lording it over his fallen brethren. "My lips are sealed."

Jared stared mournfully at the chocolate splodge on the sidewalk before paying his last respects, sighing, and moving to leave just as Jensen held out his own ice cream in offering, both of them speaking simultaneously,

"We should-"

"You can have-"

They fell silent before breaking into smiles and locking eyes at the same time. Jensen offered his ice cream up again, saying quietly, "You can have some of mine if you want."

Normally, Jared would have said no, joked that he wasn't that much of a pig, and then filled his entirely piggish ice cream craving on the way home, but as Jensen looked up at him, lips stained even pinker with his strawberry ice cream, he began to feel the same indefinable tingle that buzzed through him in the clothes store. Licking his own chocolatey lips out of hunger for something other than ice cream, he stepped closer, scooping out a little of Jensen's portion and eating it with a soft moan of enjoyment.

He almost swore in frustration when he felt a drop of cool ice cream trickle down his chin, like the messy, overgrown child that he was, but his breath promptly caught in his throat when Jensen moved in as though out of instinct, reaching up to catch the drop easily on his thumb.

His nail traced Jared's bottom lip, and before he could stop himself, Jared found himself tilting his head and leaving a slow kiss on the pad of Jensen's thumb. His lips caught the melted pink droplet, and at the somehow different flavor of strawberry, he ached to press a kiss to Jensen's equally pink lips, needing to lick away every last trace of ice cream until he got down to the taste of Jensen himself.

Breath quickening at the thought, he met the other's eyes, feeling Jensen's body freeze against his own and waiting pleadingly for him to relax, to grant him access, and then to kiss him back with equal enthusiasm. Jared watched the desire waver in Jensen's gaze, fighting his own urge just to take the lead, and he could've cried when Jensen suddenly pulled back, the warmth of his hand leaving Jared's face, and the cold cone of ice cream pushed hurriedly into his hand as he said, "It's all yours. I'm done."

Jared took a deep breath. Pushing down the feeling of rejection with the reminder that he'd never really made a proper offer in the first place, he managed a tight smile.

This smile soon morphed into a genuine one when he saw Jensen relax a little at his reaction, fear-filled gaze settling into something closer to apologetic as he murmured, nodding vaguely towards the ice cream, "Sorry, I- I'm already full, I guess." He worried his bottom lip between his teeth before adding with vulnerable guilt, "Another day? Maybe?"

Sting in his chest alleviating slightly, Jared nodded back, taking a large, purposeful scoop of cold strawberry as he replied, "Definitely." He gave Jensen a reassuring half-smile, feeling his heart thud hopefully against his chest as he promised, "I'm always up for ice cream."


	4. Chapter 4

It was times like these that Jared was glad he wasn't the Pope.

Not that he was in danger of being Pope-ified any time in the near future, what with his fondness for gay sex and his apparent belief that Jesus should've turned himself into prawn crackers, but when it came to willpower in the face of sexual attraction, Jared was currently redefining the word 'failure'.

After his most recent (non-)date with Jensen, he'd decided that the other man was in need of some space so that he could chill out, ponder awhile, and then come to the obvious conclusion that 'Jeff = ass' and 'Jared = awesomesauce'.

However, he'd also decided that he should keep away from Jensen for his own reasons. True, he was pretty confident that Jensen liked him back, but since he'd come perilously close to both mauling the skittish waiter in a dressing room and smothering him to death with well-meaning ice cream kisses on a public street, he figured it was best not to jeopardize his chances (and Jensen's safety) and to stay away until he'd come up with a way to act like a responsible adult.

Therefore on Tuesday, after his failed date with Jensen, Jared had conducted a short yet wide-ranging search to come up with a 'responsible adult' to use as a role-model.

Chad had been promptly excluded after the comment "Dude, you totally should've just jumped the guy right there. They love that spontaneous shit."

Jared's own father was discarded as he really didn't want to think of his dad as a sexual template. Ew.

Luke Skywalker was briefly considered after a late-night Star Wars marathon, but then bypassed on the reasoning that Jared's didn't want to put himself in the mindset of someone who probably had unknowingly-inappropriate thoughts about his own sister.

Finally, Superman had been kicked to the curb after Jared had thought way too deeply about the mechanics of SuperSex and had then suffered disturbing dreams about the powers of SuperSperm inside a human body.

However, he had seen the light the next morning when he was roused from sperm-filled slumber by two Christian missionaries at the door. While they had failed to convince Jared that their branch of Christianity was the most awesome thing since sliced bread, they had inspired him to think of the Pope as a role-model and to resist all Jensen-related temptations.

This had actually worked for a while with Jared approaching the problem like a perverse game of Whac-a-Mole, in which mental images of a naked and/or ice-cream-covered Jensen were smacked down by a large mallet bearing the stern face of the Pope. Unfortunately, Jared's Whac-a-Mole talents had not improved since the carnival three years early, when he'd panicked at the sight of so many moles and had given Chad a concussion as a result of flailing with the mallet.

His Pope-based efforts eventually went the same way, which was how, less than two days after his resolution to give Jensen space, he found himself standing outside on a cool Vancouver evening, staring up at the now-familiar pink neon sign which announced to the world that, as far as Jensen Ackles was concerned, Jared had the willpower of a shiny-object-entranced magpie.

Eyes fixed on the Cut-n-Thrust sign, he was nearly knocked into the road as a small group of women hustled past him into the club, their giddy laughter mixing with the music pounding from the open doors which washed over Jared, making him feel like the sidewalk was vibrating beneath his feet. His anxious excitement tempered by the memory of rejection, Jared squared his shoulders (nearly elbowing a particularly petite woman as he did so), strode into the club, moved to his usual booth, and sat, waiting for Jensen.

Jensen didn't appear.

Unsettled by this, Jared dragged his eyes from the safety of the walls to scan the club, soon registering from the ties and impossibly tight gym shorts worn by the strippers that tonight was the Cut-n-Thrust schoolboy special. Trying his best to ignore the strippers on stage - the guy formerly known as Officer Mike was being divested of his shirt and pants by a taller brunette holding a cane - he focused instead on the audience, glancing at each of the tables in turn in the hopes of spotting Jensen among them.

He'd visually worked his way past one bachelorette party, one gaggle of over-excited men, the requisite napping drunk, and a group of cheering men before he caught sight of Jensen, working the far side of the room as he deposited beers and wine in front of couples whose faces were obscured by the dim lightning.

An unconscious smile spread across his face at the presence of the waiter, and he started to edge his way out of his current booth towards Jensen, only to have his path suddenly blocked by a broad, oiled, and - ouch - waxed chest.

Understandably panicked by the appearance of a large floating chest, Jared scrambled backwards, only relaxing when he'd looked up to confirm there was actually a person attached to the overly shiny pecs.

The chest-owner smiled. "Hey, man. Can I get you a drink?"

So used to Jensen's professional demeanor, Jared was surprised by the man's familiarity but soon figured that confidence probably came from wandering around in his underwear all night. Shrugging, he answered with equal friendliness, "I'm good. I was just going to go-" He gestured over in Jensen's general direction. "-get a better view."

The stripper, whom Jared now recognized as half of the entity known as ChrisandSteve, took that as an invitation, moving to sit on the table as he said knowingly, "You know, I can give you a great view right here..."

Jared sympathized with all rabbits who ever found themselves in headlights. "Uh, that's great, but I'm- I don't-"

The other man raised his eyebrows. "You don't? You're hanging out in a strip club and don't even want one dance?" His foot brushed over Jared's thigh, sliding teasingly between his legs as he murmured, "Sure you don't wanna let me change your mind?"

Frozen in place, Jared gulped. "Look, uh-"

"Chris," the stripper supplied, foot brushing at the inseam of Jared's jeans.

"Chris," Jared continued bravely, "I'm really not here for that. There's this guy, and I just wanted to hang out, and have a drink, and talk, and..."

He waved his hand again in Jensen's direction. Chris glanced over his shoulder before looking back at Jared and tilting his head as he asked curiously, "You Jensen's boy?"

His eyes widened. "What?!"

"Jensen's boy," the brunette repeated, expression and tone instantly changing from seductive to open as his face split into a grin. "The one who's got him walking round like he's been popping happy pills."

Jared frowned, not following. "Happy pills? He's-?"

He was cut off by a snort of laughter from Chris. "Jensen? Hell no. The guy's never taken anything stronger than Advil." He smirked, eyes tracking over Jared as he added, "Well, not until he met Mr Valium at least."

The floundering continued. "Mr Valium?"

Chris rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair. "That'd be you, bucko. Far be it for me to talk shit about my boss, but I ain't seen Jen this happy in fuck knows how long. He's been like a kid with his first crush, all perky and happy and shit." He clapped Jared on the shoulder. "I don't know what you're doing but it's sure as hell working."

Jared gaped for a moment, the other man's words slowly sinking in as he said in amazed disbelief, "He said that? He talks about me?"

Chris made a "psht" noise and rolled his eyes. "Oh please. Jen's barely managed to say hi to us this past year without Jeff popping up like a freaking jack-in-the-box and dragging him off for sex."

"Then how do you know-"

"I'm psychic," Chris deadpanned, before taking pity on Jared and explaining sincerely, "Because I've got eyes, kid. These last few days, Jen's been happier than I've seen him since before he started dating Jeff. He was whistling this afternoon. Whistling." The stripper shuddered. "Do you have any idea how hard it was for me and my boy to get some alone time with Jen wandering round whistling like Mary fucking Poppins?"

Jared struggled to see how whistling would be a barrier to alone time before unpleasant realization dawned and his Pope-mallet emerged to smack down that particular mental picture. "Uh, I'm sorry?"

Leaning back on the table, Chris tapped his feet against the wall of the booth, frowning in confusion. "Sorry for what?"

For the life of him, Jared had no idea. "The whistling?" He gave a nervous laugh and the runaway brain-train went speeding down the tracks as he continued, "I mean, it's got to be distracting. I had this boyfriend in college, and every time he came over, the guy who lived down the hall would be playing Backstreet Boys records, and Milo - that's the boyfriend - kept having these panic attacks when he heard the phrase "rock your body" - I think it had something to do with an accident on a rocking chair when he was little - and so he'd freak out and we..."

He trailed off under Chris' astounded stare and instead summarized guiltily, "I'm sorry for making Jensen whistle."

Chris looked like he was trying hard to not laugh in Jared's face (which Jared was grateful for) and said good-naturedly, "Don't worry about it. Hell, he could be playing the fricking ukulele for all I care; it's just great to see him happy for once." He reconsidered his last statement and flashed Jared a hopeful smile. "Don't convince him to play the ukulele though, 'kay? Convince him to dump Jeff all you want, but no twangy instruments."

Jared mock-saluted. "No twang. Got it." Sitting up, he leaned in with interest, only peripherally aware that this movement was actually bringing him closer to the stripper's crotch. "Jensen and Jeff, are they... Is it not going well?"

The other man stretched, rolling his oiled shoulders in an effort to get comfortable. "Depends who you talk to, now don't it? You ask Jeff, and he'll tell you that it's perfect, that he and Jen love each other, and that the world is made of candy canes and gumdrop buttons. Ask Jen, and you'll get him closing up faster than a mouse trap but still swearing that Jeff's his own personal savior and that he loves him. Ask anyone who's been working this joint for more than a couple of years, and they'll tell you that Jeff's sucking the goddamn life outta that boy. He doesn't come out for drinks anymore; he's always working overtime cleaning up whatever shit's been left for him to do; hell, he barely moves without checking with Jeff first. God knows I love him, but Jen needs some self-esteem. A-sap."

Jared's brow wrinkled. "If Jeff's such an asshole, why do you all still work for him?"

"Because he ain't an asshole to us," Chris answered simply. "He's a great boss most of the time, but just saves up all his a-hole behavior for Jen, who's in too deep now to notice." Straightening up, he patted Jared on the shoulder again. Hard. "That's why we're happy he's got you. Jeff keeps his boyfriend, we keep our jobs, Jen gets to be with someone who makes him happy, and you get laid. Everybody wins." He beamed, sliding off the table and shooting Jared one last wink before calling as he walked away, "Nice work, man!"

By the time Jared had come up with a coherent argument to explain that a) Jeff should not get to keep his boyfriend, b) Jensen would probably not be happy while he still had to go home to Jeff at night, and c) Jared would not be acting like a sexually repressed freak if he were actually getting laid, Chris had made it the whole way across the club and was halfway through giving a table dance to the squealing bachelorette party.

Sighing, he pushed himself to his feet to avoid being cornered by any more friendly strippers wishing to congratulate him on his non-existent relationship with Jensen. He conducted another brief visual sweep of the room, eyes finding Jensen at the bar, and paused for a moment, inwardly testing out Chris' observations as he watched Jensen carry a tray of drinks across the club.

Even though he had no 'Before' example to compare to, he began to understand Chris' view of the post-Jared Jensen. The waiter seemed happy enough, giving customers friendly rather than simply polite smiles as he edged his way around them with more of a spring in his step than one would expect from a man who had presumably been working since mid-afternoon. Jared couldn't stop a pleased smile touching his own lips, both at the sight of a contented Jensen and at the knowledge that he'd been the one to cause that contentment.

He watched, a little zoned out at this discovery, as Jensen approached the large party of men and started to place bottles and pitchers of beer on the table, careful not to obstruct the customers' view of the stage, where Mike was now wrapped around the pole with a cane between his teeth.

He watched when a blond-haired guy at the table suddenly stood up, waving his meaty arms in the air in some kind of demonstration and accidentally knocking a pitcher of beer from Jensen's hand.

He watched as though in slow motion as the pitcher tipped, splattering frothy beer all over the blond and all over Jensen, before dropping to the carpeted floor and out of his sight.

He stopped watching and starting moving across the club when the blond guy grabbed Jensen by the front of his shirt, shouting something inaudible at him before slamming him down on the table and emptying a full pitcher of beer over his head.

"Hey!"

Jared's outraged shout went unnoticed over the raucous laughter of the group of men, two of whom were now helping to pin Jensen to the table as the first leaned over him, hand tight around his throat. Fighting his way through the crowd of women who had taken that moment to get closer to the stage, Jared yelled again, "Hey, get off him!"

The men gave no sign of hearing, and Jared pushed forward, elbowing one couple out of the way until he was close enough to overhear the blond mockingly ask, "You want another drink, you retard?"

Before Jensen could answer (and before Jared could get close enough to stop him), the man thrust a beer bottle between Jensen's lips, holding his jaw in place and causing him to choke against the flow of the liquid as he struggled helplessly.

Reaching out to pull him away from Jensen and willing to inflict whatever damage was necessary in retribution, Jared was taken by surprise as he was pushed roughly out of the way before he could land a single punch. Regaining his balance, he spun back around, fist raised and ready, only to stop cold when he found himself facing two of the club's bouncers.

He took a step back when one of the doormen dragged the blond off Jensen by his hair as he protested with drunken anger, "Hey, that retard spilled my beer! You should throw him out, the fucking loser!"

The last insult was yelled back at Jensen, who'd slid off the table to his knees when released, coughing up beer and struggling for breath as the other bouncer manhandled the rest of the group, shoving them forcefully toward the door like a herd of stubborn cattle and advising loudly, "Go find somewhere else to act like assholes."

Helping to push the men away from the table, Jared dropped to a crouch beside Jensen, resting a hand on his soaked shoulder and asking worriedly, "You alright?"

Jensen nodded briefly, head down and still coughing.

"You sure?" Jared's hand unconsciously moved around, cupping the back of Jensen's head gently. "You can still breathe? You've not got water on the brain or anything?"

Dipping his head to see Jensen's face, Jared felt a stab of relief when he saw the waiter smile for a split-second before launching into another coughing fit and reassuring shakily, "I'm fine. Promise."

Jared grinned, only then realizing how hard his heart was thudding in his chest. Taking a deep breath, he said in an attempt at light-hearted, "You know I'm going to hold you to that."

Jensen looked up long enough to roll his eyes, adding when the coughing slowed, "I figured you would." Another cough. "But I'm good." And another. "Really."

Coughs finally dissipating, he met Jared's eyes, beer still trickling down his face as he said quietly, "Thanks."

"I didn't do much," Jared admitted. "Mostly I just got knocked out of the way by the Schwarzenegger twins over there."

The other man smiled, glancing over to the doors where the bouncers in question were giving each other a gruff manly nod of accomplishment before settling back into position. "You did enough. Thank you."

Surprised by the sincerity of the emotion in the waiter's voice, Jared bit down on any other self-deprecating protests, saying honestly, "You're welcome."

Before either of them could say anything else, there was a noise behind them, and Jared looked over his shoulder in time to see Jeff ease his way through a gathered group of customers, smiling at them and politely encouraging them to go back to enjoying the performances. He moved to stand over them and, expecting an overwrought show of concern for Jensen's well-being, Jared was taken aback when Jeff ignored his boyfriend entirely and turned his smile on him, saying cheerfully, "You're missing some good dancing by being down here, man."

Jared gaped. "I- Uh, we-"

Taking hold of his arm, Jeff helped him to his feet. "Thanks for your help, but we've got everything under control here." He patted him jovially on the shoulder, nudging him subtly towards the door as he said with a dismissive tone, "Go have a drink on the house."

Finding himself guided away by the firm hand of Jeff, Jared ducked out of his grip, turning to look at Jensen who was still getting to his feet, and stammering, "I, uh- Shouldn't he get checked out or something?"

Jeff's smile vanished for a moment, but reappeared instantly as he glanced over his shoulder, calling more for Jared's benefit than Jensen's, "You okay, Jenny?"

"Yeah," Jensen replied out of habit, and Jeff turned back with a triumphant smile.

"See, he's great. Now please, go have a drink on me while I get Jenny here all cleaned up." His hand closed around the back of Jensen's neck and Jared didn't know whether he imagined the waiter's flinch. "Don't worry, he'll be back on the floor in no time." With a final nod, he disappeared at speed, all but dragging Jensen with him.

Stunned into silence, Jared stared after them, seriously unable to comprehend how Jeff could be that much of a douche to his own boyfriend. Hell, Jared wasn't even dating Jensen, and he still wanted to give the poor guy a hug (preferably followed by a lot of comfort sex.) He wavered for a moment between backing off at this reminder that Jensen was already involved in a relationship, and between wanting to do what Jeff obviously wasn't and help out the guy who'd been held down and assaulted five minutes earlier.

Unsurprisingly, the latter option won out.

As sneakily as someone six-foot-plus could manage, Jared made his way toward the door marked Employees Only, which Jeff and Jensen had vanished through. Taking advantage of a handily-timed shimmy by Schoolboy Mike, and the resulting whoop from the customers, he slipped through the door, shutting it quietly behind him and darting into a nearby closet when he heard voices from down the hall.

It took him all of three seconds and near suffocation by a feather-boa to realize that the closet in question was stuffed full of stripper-clothes rather than brooms as he expected. Choking on pink feathers, he stumbled back out into the hallway, relieved to find it empty, and after plucking a stray feather out of his hair, crept down the corridor towards the voices.

He passed what he guessed were the dancers' dressing rooms before reaching the end of the hallway and a smaller room filled with staff lockers and leading to a shower area. Despite the predictions his brain provided of walking in on Jeff having sex with Jensen, he peered into the room nonetheless, creeping quietly around the first bank of lockers until he found the source of the voices.

While Jeff thankfully wasn't having sex with Jensen, he didn't look far from it. Jensen's beer-covered t-shirt lay on the floor and Jeff had the waiter pushed up against the wall of metal lockers, his back to Jared as he licked a slow path down Jensen's exposed neck, one hand resting on the younger man's bare hip and the other tilting his head to the side to give him easy access.

Jared heard the wet smack echo through the room as Jeff sucked hard on Jensen's skin before lifting his head and murmuring, "You taste good, Jenny."

Jensen shifted a little to the side, pressing his hands to Jeff's chest as he said quietly, "I need to go shower."

Jeff just chuckled, blocking his path to the shower and moving in closer. Lifting Jensen's head up to face him, he planted sloppy kisses along his jaw as he commented, "I don't know. I kinda like you like this." He looked up, running a patronizing hand through Jensen's wet hair. "Maybe I should give you a beer shower more often. I like when you're flavored."

Jared's fists clenched when Jensen's eyes dropped to the floor and he shrugged, acquiescing, "Whatever you want."

Another chuckle. "That's what I love about you, Jen. You're so damn accommodating." Smiling, he pulled Jensen's head up again and pressed a rough kiss to his mouth, tongue visible from where Jared was standing as he licked the stray droplets off the waiter's lips.

Jared watched as Jensen submitted passively to the intrusion, not encouraging his boyfriend but not pushing him away either as Jared wished he would. It was only when Jeff broke away from the kiss that he spoke up again, suggesting meekly, "I really need to shower."

Jeff's hungry smile didn't falter, and neither did his grip on Jensen as he said with a leer, "I think you should get a little dirtier first."

Jared frowned, but Jensen evidently understood the implications as he protested half-heartedly, "Jeff..."

"Now come on, boy," Jeff reprimanded with only the slightest hint of teasing. "I was away for nearly four days last week. That's a lot of time to make up."

"And I will," Jensen promised hopefully. "Tonight. We can do whatever you want-"

"Sorry, Jenny," the older man interrupted bluntly. "I won't be home tonight; I'm gonna go get drinks with some friends."

A mixture of relief and disappointment flashed across Jensen's face before he shut down again, saying quietly, "Oh."

"Yeah." Jeff shrugged. "Sorry, kiddo, but that's the way it goes sometimes." His hand dropped from Jensen's shoulder to his own belt, opening it purposefully as he added, "Guess we'll just have to make do here."

Expecting a protest or refusal from Jensen, Jared raised his eyebrows when the waiter just mumbled in defeat, "Jeff, someone could see-"

Jeff laughed again. "No-one's going to be back in here at peak time. Chris and Steve are up next; you know how everyone likes to watch them." His belt buckle opened with a jangle, and his hand landed on Jensen's shoulder again as his tone darkened, "Anyway, it's not like they don't already know what a slut you are." Jensen's lips tightened and Jeff smirked. "You really think there's anyone left in this place that doesn't know that you're a hungry little cockwhore? It's common knowledge that you bend over for me at every opportunity."

He pressed up against Jensen, cupping his face in his hands and forcing him to look him in the eye as he taunted, "C'mon, Jenny. No-one's can think less of you than they already do."

Biting his tongue to keep himself from yelling at Jeff, Jared watched in horrified silence as Jensen closed his eyes, his swallow audible in the quiet of the locker room, before he sank slowly to his knees. With quick, expert moves, he opened Jeff's zipper, easing his half-hard cock out of his pants and beginning to lick and stroke without any preamble.

Jared's eyes widened at the sight, torn between barging in and pulling Jeff away from Jensen, or backing out in order to spare Jensen the embarrassment of having an audience. As much as his fists longed to pound into Jeff's face, he listened to his brain for once and stayed put, thinking Jensen wouldn't be happy about him beating on his boyfriend, no matter how much of an asshole the rest of the world thought Jeff was.

With that option discarded, he tried to force himself to leave but found that, like watching a car crash, he couldn't tear his eyes away as Jensen's perfect lips closed around the head of Jeff's cock while the other man groaned with pleasure.

"Christ, baby, that's good."

Eyes closed, Jeff gripped onto Jensen's hair, forcing him to take more of his length into his mouth as his hips thrust towards his face. Jared heard Jensen gag briefly, eyes watering at the unexpected move, but he recovered, swallowing around him as his hands came up to grip his hip and roll his balls.

As turned on as Jared might have been at the sight of Jensen on his knees with a cock in his mouth, the thought was tempered by the fact that the cock belonged to Jeff, who was now letting out breathy, ragged moans between his encouragements to Jensen. The words "Jenny", "good", "Christ", "fuck", and "hot" fell from Jeff's mouth in no order, blurring together as Jared's heart pounded in a combination of hatred and reluctant arousal, still unable to look away.

Jeff thrust harder, holding Jensen's head in place and moving with little regard for the other man's comfort. A new surge of anger flooded through Jared as Jensen choked briefly, reminding him all too clearly of the incident in the club. He struggled to draw a firm distinction between the man who held the waiter down and forced a bottle of beer between his lips, and the man who now had his boyfriend on his knees and was fucking his mouth in earnest, and Jared honestly didn't know which one he hated most.

"C'mon, Jenny, take it all... That's it..."

Jeff tightened his grip on his hair as Jensen obediently took the rest of the older man's length into his mouth, lips stretched obscenely wide as Jeff picked up speed with his thrusts, getting closer to the edge and letting his head fall back in enjoyment. Beer trickled down from Jensen's head, squeezed out by Jeff's hand fisting in his hair, and Jared's eyes tracked the path of one drop as it fell, preferring the glisten of liquid on skin to the opposite expressions of the two men or the sex itself.

Running down Jensen's damp chest, the drop followed a slow course over his toned stomach, merging with other streams of beer before slipping into the curve of his hipbone and finally becoming invisible against the black material of his pants. Gaze fixed on his work pants, Jared swallowed down his disgust that, from what he could see, Jensen wasn't hard in the slightest, not turned on by the situation and receiving no help from Jeff in getting aroused.

Jeff, on the other hand, was moments away and as much as Jared's decency told him to avert his eyes, his attention was drawn when the club owner pulled out abruptly, almost knocking Jensen off balance with the sudden movement. One hand remained tight in the waiter's hair while the other dropped to his still-slick cock, moving in quick jerks until he came with a groan of satisfaction, come splattering thickly across Jensen's upturned face.

Hearing the older man breathing deeply as he came down from the high, Jared couldn't tear his eyes from Jensen's face as he knelt with his eyes closed and tremors running through his body. When Jensen did open his eyes to look up at Jeff, still making no move to wipe the man's come off his face, Jared bristled at the chuckle the older man gave, and watched as he ran a hand through Jensen's hair.

"Good boy."

Jensen curled in on himself at the patronizing praise, while Jared wanted to smack the self-satisfied smirk off Jeff's face for treating his boyfriend like a dog.

Thinking that he was actually nicer to his dogs than Jeff was to Jensen, Jared kept staring as Jeff ran his thumb along the younger man's jaw, catching any drops that were about to fall to the floor before nudging it between Jensen's parted lips. "Wouldn't want you to miss out on a taste, Jenny."

Jensen accepted the offered thumb submissively, more out of habit than preference, and Jared's hands clenched into fists again. However, some sense of reality started to edge back into his mind and he glanced around, realizing he should leave before Jeff came down from his post-orgasmic bliss and caught him watching. Eyes fixed on the club owner for any sign he was going to leave, Jared shifted position, inching back around the lockers and, with his usual level of clumsiness, smacking his knuckles against the metal as he did so.

Cursing under his breath, he froze in place, offering up a quick prayer that Jeff would be too focused on Jensen to notice him banging about like a klutz.

Unfortunately, God was apparently still having issues with Jared's pope-mallet, and Jeff looked up, glancing around the locker room as he called suspiciously, "Who's there?"

Cringing, Jared moved out from behind the lockers, looking anywhere but at Jensen as he offered a weak smile and feigned a drunken explanation, "Hey, I was just looking for the bathroom..."

Amazingly, Jeff didn't seemed fazed by a customer wandering in while he had his cock in his hand, and zipped himself back up, saying amicably, "It's right outside. Back down the corridor, turn left-" He cut himself off, picking up his jacket with a smarmy grin as he reconsidered, "You know what, I'll show you myself. Kinda need to freshen up anyway."

The knowing wink he threw in Jared's direction made the younger man feel physically sick, but he managed a curt nod. "Great. Thank you."

Jeff grinned, saying, "Not a problem," before bending down to whisper something in Jensen's ear.

As he did so, Jared followed his movement, looking down at the waiter for the first time since he emerged from behind the lockers, and then immediately wishing he hadn't.

Even throughout the whole interaction with Jeff, Jared didn't think he'd ever seen Jensen look more hurt or humiliated. Kneeling half-naked in a locker room and covered with beer and drying ejaculate, Jensen was staring up at Jared in horrified shock, cheeks bright red and wide eyes filled with devastated embarrassment. Jared felt guilt rising up like bile in his throat as Jensen's gaze fell back to the floor, wanting more than anything to reassure him that he didn't think any less of him, but being led out of the locker room by Jeff before he could even work out how to form the words.

Numb with unwarranted exhaustion, he let Jeff take him back to the main floor, apologizing clumsily for his mistake and thanking the other man for showing him the way to the bathrooms. Unable to blink away the image of a disheveled, shaken Jensen, Jared leaned against the tiled wall, trying to process all the new dynamics of the evening. With the simplicity of his "Date Jensen" plan falling away, his head spun with the new problems of whether he could get Jensen out of Jeff's clutches, whether Jeff had already done irreparable damage, and whether Jensen would even talk to him again after knowing what he'd witnessed.

Failing to get a grasp on the situation and still overwhelmed by concern and guilt, Jared wandered out of the bathroom, needing a better scheme but settling on a temporary measure: drowning his sorrows.


	5. Chapter 5

Of all the many, many things Jared sucked at, he honestly hadn't thought getting drunk would be one of them.

Intent on drowning his sorrows after walking in on Jeff redefining the term "asshole" and making the recently assaulted Jensen suck him off in the locker room, Jared had headed out of the Jeff-owned strip club and down the street to the nearest bar he could find. He'd then ordered a large glass of scotch and, in a move inspired by many film clichés, had asked the bartender to leave the bottle.

The bartender had laughed in his face but had then promised he'd be back to refill Jared's glass on demand.

Jared had never got around to taking him up on the offer. After an hour spent staring miserably into his drink and trying to get the image of Jensen and Jeff out from behind his eyelids, he realized that his efforts to get drunk were destined to end in failure and decided to cut his losses while he was still under the drink-driving limit.

Morosely, he'd headed back to his car, opting to follow the thin line of trees which bordered the bay rather than taking a path back through the gay district, and tried to keep his mind off Jensen.

Hands tucked in the pockets of his large jacket, Jared wandered along with his head down, his mind alternating between thoughts of what else Jeff might be doing to Jensen in his absence and the memory of Jensen's hurt stare from that evening. Shivering in the cool night air, Jared allowed himself to indulge in a little sulking, knowing that he looked like an emo poster boy and not caring in the least.

He was snapped out of his sulk by shouts and laughter from the other side of the trees and he looked up to check his path was clear. True, he'd yet to meet a drunken confrontation which he couldn't diffuse by towering over his opponent(s) and possibly making growly yeti noises, but that still didn't mean he was in the mood for it. Impersonating a heartbroken Sasquatch would not be the best way to end the evening.

Fortunately, the voices were coming from the side closest to the bay, and Jared continued on to his car, unobstructed but occasionally casting glances through the trees to see if he could locate the sources of the laughing and splashing. Spotting nothing, he was about to turn off to where his SUV waited under a streetlamp when a clearer voice rose above the noise of the group.

"Help! Please, hel-"

The shout was cut off by more splashes, but Jared's alcohol-free mind filled in the gaps. Momentarily forgetting his own problems, he ran back toward the trees, taking the nearest path down to the water's edge and feeling a little like Superman when his coat flapped behind him as he ran. He caught sight of a group of men clustered together in the water, and yelled instinctively, "Hey!"

They looked up at him in surprise, and Jared slowed to a halt, regaining his breath and taking stock of what he could make out in the moonlight. The group hadn't gone too far into the water, still dressed in bulky coats while the water lapped around their knees, and Jared counted about six of them. His eyes were drawn to the figure in the center of the group, hidden by the shadows of the other men but on their knees and clearly the one who had been shouting for help.

"What th'fuck d'you want?" one of the men standing asked drunkenly, voice echoing across the bay.

Eyes on the person in the water, Jared confirmed that they were still upright and therefore not dead, before speaking with as much authority as he could muster, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Just havin' fun," another man slurred in response, the glint of his smile visible in the moonlight. Something tugged inside Jared at the voice but the man continued before he could pinpoint it, addressing someone else, "Ain't that right, retard?"

The insult made the voice click into place in Jared's head and his eyes widened in shock when the man tugged on his victim's wet hair, forcing his head up and allowing Jared to see the terror on Jensen's face for the first time. Even from the pebbled shore, Jared could see him trembling from either fear or cold as he gasped helplessly, speaking more to the men than to Jared, "Please..."

The others just laughed, and the man, who Jared now recognized as the blond who had poured beer over Jensen earlier, tugged on his hair again as he mocked drunkenly, "What's the matter? You want another bath?"

Before Jared could react, the blond forced Jensen's head under the water, producing laughs from his friends and thrashing struggles from Jensen whose arms were held behind him with something Jared couldn't make out.

"Stop it!"

The volume of his shout was a surprise to Jared himself but he was relieved to see the gang jump, the ringleader loosening his grip while Jensen pushed himself up and coughed weakly.

Knowing he was outnumbered, Jared tried for intimidation rather than violence, just wanting Jensen out of danger. "Let him go," he ordered levelly. Producing his cell, he waved it clearly to get his message across as he warned, "I'll call the cops unless you let him go and get the hell out of here right now."

A couple of the group laughed, but the majority seemed to exchange glances in the darkness. There were mumbled whisperings, and Jared held his breath in anticipation, praying they were discussing cab fares home rather than how best to attack him or Jensen. For once, God seemed to be listening and the group started to edge out of the water as one of them spoke, words slurred and hands raised, "Alright, we're gone, we're gone. No cops; we were just havin' fun."

Jared held back a snort of disbelief at the statement, deciding it would do neither of them any good, and nodded curtly. Swallowing down his anger, he watched them meander towards the trees and the city, lurching drunkenly but more subdued than they were previously. When he was satisfied they'd gone and weren't going to jump them from behind, Jared turned his attention to the important matter: Jensen.

Still shivering, the waiter had managed to stumble halfway to Jared, arms still trapped behind him, and Jared pulled off his thick coat before quickly wading into the water and catching Jensen before he lost his balance. The other man almost collapsed against him, body soaked and shaking as he repeated, voice quiet and dazed, "Thank you thank you thank you thank you-"

Not knowing what to do, Jared wrapped him in his arms, feeling the cold seeping through his shoes and jeans as he soothed gently, "Shh... You're okay, it's okay, it's over."

Platitudes mingled with stammered gratitude in the trembling hug until they both regained their composure and until Jared started to lose the feeling in his toes. Knowing it must be worse for Jensen, he loosened his hold, coaxing, "C'mon, let's get you out of here."

With slow stumbling steps, they made their way out of the water, Jensen leaning against Jared every step of the way and both sinking to their knees on the pebbles. Concerned by Jensen's silence, Jared cupped his cheeks, tilting his head up to face him as he asked, "You with me?"

Jensen nodded, eyes glazed, and Jared pulled him closer, rubbing a comforting hand between his shoulders as he said, "You're okay, alright? We'll get you warm and dry and you'll be back to judging me for my unicorn shirts in no time."

He felt Jensen smile against his cheek and pulled back, enthused by the reaction. "See, you're starting already."

He moved behind him, seeing the sweater that had been pulled over Jensen's head and was now trapping his arms together, and untwisted it carefully as Jensen asked, teasing but still shaken, "T-tell me you d-didn't b-buy that shirt."

The sodden sweater dropped loose as Jared answered, "Nope. I did buy a plaid wife-beater though. It really brings out my eyes."

Jensen laughed a little, and Jared felt the clenching worry ease up, only to reappear when the waiter coughed painfully, spitting out some more water. Deciding that fashion jokes should probably wait until after Jensen wasn't about to turn into a half-drowned popsicle, Jared grabbed his jacket and wrapped it around Jensen's shoulders before helping him to his feet. "C'mon. We need to get you warmed up."

He started to shepherd him back toward the trees but frowned in confusion when Jensen pulled away, slipping the coat off his shoulders and offering it back to Jared with the reasoning, "I'm f-fine."

Jared raised an eyebrow. "Right... And I'd believe you, if you weren't shaking like a baby kitten right now."

A baffled smile touched Jensen's lips. "B-baby kitten?"

Jared was aware that his brain had managed to bypass its usual simile filter again, but explained gamely, "Yeah. 'Cause they're all cute and trembly and adorable."

Jensen clearly wasn't sure how to react to being compared to a baby kitten, but Jared figured that, since he had these thoughts quite often, he'd probably get used to it. Pushing the coat back at him, he said with a friendly smile, "Put it on. I'm sure as hell not taking it off you when your damn hands are shaking too much to hold it out."

Gaze dropping to the ground, Jensen did as instructed and Jared was gratified to see him relax slightly at the dry warmth. Since his own feet were starting to go numb, he patted Jensen on the back and again started to lead him toward the trees and his car as the older man asked quietly, "I- Could you g-give me a r-ride home?" Jared looked at him in surprise, and Jensen backtracked quickly, "Sorry, I didn't m-mean- I'll walk, it's-"

Jared didn't give him the chance to finish the sentence, interrupting firmly, "I'm not letting you walk home, Jen. I'm not letting you go home at all when you're like this." Jensen frowned and Jared realized how kidnapper-ish that sentence sounded. "Look, Jeff's not going to be home, right? Well, I'm not about to leave you on your own when you look like you're going to pass out any minute." Jensen still didn't look soothed, and he explained further, "Just come home with me, okay? I'll give you a hot shower, some dry clothes, warm soup, and a place to sleep. You might even get your own dog-shaped hot water bottle."

He waggled his eyebrows enticingly and Jensen smiled with chattering teeth. "I-Is that your way of s-saying you have a dog? Or d-do you have some creepy hot water bottle f-fetish I don't know about?"

Jared grinned. "I have two. Dogs, not fetishes," he clarified, thinking that he'd recently developed way more than two Jensen-based fetishes. "You're not allergic, are you?"

"To d-dogs or to fetishes?"

"Ha ha," he replied sarcastically, halting when they reached the car and moving to pull a blanket out of the trunk. "Seriously, you're not allergic? 'Cause I kinda need to wrap you up in this blanket so you don't freeze, and it's probably got more dog hair on it now than Sadie and Harley combined."

Jensen smiled tiredly, but shook his head. "I'm not allergic."

"Awesome."

The blanket was wrapped around Jensen's body before he could protest, his wet sweater being thrown in the trunk in its place, and Jared looked closely at the other man, seeing his eyes were sleepy but responsive in the light of the streetlamp. He also saw the pallor of Jensen's skin for the first time and the slightly swollen areas on his jaw and cheek which looked as if they'd blossom into bruises in time. He brushed one, watching Jensen wince but otherwise stay still under Jared's hand, and asked softly, "They hit you?"

Jensen's eyes stayed on the ground as he answered quietly, "I wasn't going to let them drown me without a fight."

Jared gulped reflexively, thinking again how much danger Jensen had been in, even if the men hadn't intended to cause permanent damage. Stroking his cheek, he said tentatively, "Those guys, they were the ones at the club..."

"I know," Jensen said. "I don't think it was planned or anything. Jeff let me off my shift early so I was walking home and they recognized me." He looked up at Jared, seeming younger than ever when wrapped in the large blanket. "They were just drunk. One of them was still angry about me getting them kicked out, and the bay was right there, and so..." He gestured helplessly but Jared understood the reassurance that it was just coincidence rather than anything more sinister.

Nevertheless, he advised, "You should tell the police. You've got a witness and they'll be on the cameras at the club. They shouldn't be allowed to get away with it."

Jensen nodded. "I know. Tomorrow, yeah?"

His eyelids were drooping and Jared agreed hastily, guiding him into the car, "Tomorrow sounds good. Now let's go get you warmed up; I've got three different colors of marshmallow I can put in your hot chocolate. It's like a melty smorgasbord of awesome."

Head falling against the seatback as the engine started, Jensen smiled weakly. "Candy freak."

+++

The ride back home was quick and quiet. Jensen was barely conscious in the passenger seat, and Jared felt his own adrenaline-fuelled energy ebbing away, replaced by exhaustion and relief when the events of the evening hit him. His toes were numb inside soaked socks inside soaked shoes, and he wondered absently if there was a law against driving when you couldn't feel your feet on the pedals.

They finally made it to Jared's house just outside the city, and Jensen was roused a little by the lack of motion of the SUV, blinking up at Jared in adorable confusion when he opened his door. Momentarily forgetting about his frozen feet, he smiled gently, easing a disoriented Jensen out of the car. "It's okay. We're here; this is my house."

Guided to the door by Jared's arm around his shoulders, Jensen's eyes widened when he saw the house and murmured like an awestruck kid in a toy store, "Wow... It's amazing. Y-you live here?"

Jared grinned, saying proudly, "Yep. Figured that if people were paying me to design stuff for them, I should design something cool for myself."

Jensen blinked again, wobbling slightly when Jared moved to open the door, but any further questions were drowned out by the sound of barking from indoors. Sighing melodramatically, Jared pushed the door open and did his best to act as a human shield to protect Jensen from Harley and Sadie's affectionate greetings.

Jared sucked at being a human shield.

Instantly deciding that the man who kept them fed, watered, and pampered was no longer worthy of their time, both dogs bounded past him, barking happily as they pounced on Jensen and attempted to sniff every inch of him they could get their noses on. Tucked up in the blanket and coat, Jensen couldn't do much about it, and Jared watched as he smiled tentatively and tried to free his hands to pet the enthusiastic dogs. He managed to get one loose, and Jared heard Harley yap gleefully when he received a pat from the shiny new stranger, while Sadie attached herself to the blanket, happily gnawing away on it like Jared had just delivered her a Jensen-sized chew toy.

Realizing he should be helping Jensen instead of letting him be lovingly mauled to death, he dragged Sadie and Harley off him, saying with as much sternness as he could muster, "Off! Off! Back to the lounge. Off."

Sadie made a noise of doggy derision at Jared's failed attempt to scold, but they both backed away from Jensen, wandering slowly past Jared to receive a reward-pat before settling back in the lounge. Jared flashed Jensen an apologetic smile, unwrapping him from the blanket and explaining, "They can smell themselves all over this. They probably think you're their long-lost twin."

Harley barked from the lounge, clearly delighted with his new-found twin.

Jensen smiled, his shivering increasing at the loss of the blanket but still saying politely, "They're g-good dogs."

Usually Jared would have launched into a diatribe on Harley and Sadie's Greatest Hits and/or Things Harley and Sadie Probably Shouldn't Have Eaten, but seeing that Jensen was about to fall over any moment, he kept his praises to himself. "Yeah, they are. I should really go let them outside; you think you can make it to the shower without passing out?"

Jensen nodded, wrapping his arms around himself in an effort to stop shaking, and Jared smiled nervously, suddenly aware of the awkwardness of the situation. "Great. Uh, there are towels in the cupboard, and I'll leave some clothes outside the door for you. I, uh- They might be kinda big, but they're warm." Backing up and trying not to trip over anything in the process, he stammered, "So I'll just, uh, leave you to get nak- cleaned up." He cleared his throat. "I'll go make some cocoa."

Before he could make a break for freedom and away from thoughts of naked Jensen, the man in question called out, "Jared?"

He turned back to see Jensen looking embarrassed as he asked, "Uh, where's the s-shower?"

Mentally slapping himself round the head for thinking that Jensen would have psychic knowledge of the layout of his admittedly large house, Jared toed off his wet shoes and headed upstairs, encouraging Jensen to follow. "Sorry, it's right up here."

Feet squelching unpleasantly in his socks, he heard Jensen come up the stairs behind him, the bottoms of his jeans smacking wetly together and his teeth audibly chattering in the quiet of the house. The familiar noise of paws on wood soon drowned them out as Sadie and Harley trailed behind curiously, obviously wanting to see why their twin/chew toy/new friend was heading into Jared's bedroom.

Jared almost wondered if the dogs would be disappointed when they found out that Jensen was only there to use the shower.

Picking up his pace a little as he approached the bedroom, Jared quickly kicked some stray laundry under the bed and dropped a well-used tube of lube back in the dresser before he turned around to greet Jensen with a guilty smile and the direction, "It's just through there."

Judging by the exhausted, glazed look on Jensen's face, Jared could've been stashing a pile of dead hookers in his bedroom and he wouldn't have noticed. Nodding again, he moved into the bathroom, too out of it to even close the door before he slid his arms out of Jared's coat and started peeling off his wet tee as though on autopilot.

Jared gaped briefly at the sight, wondering if he'd rubbed a magic lamp at any point that evening and been granted his fantasy of a wet, naked Jensen in his bedroom, before Sadie's disapproving bark brought him back to reality. Knowing that having Jensen this pale, trembling and exhausted was definitely not part of his fantasy (and guessing bitterly that it was probably part of Jeff's), he dragged Harley out of the way and closed the door, keeping his eyes shut as he called, "I'll leave some clothes on the bed for you!"

Jensen didn't reply, but the shower started up, and he listened carefully for a few more moments to make sure Jensen wouldn't collapse or drown or anything bad like that; Jared really didn't want to have saved him from the bay only for Jensen to go to a watery grave in Jared's own shower.

Satisfied, he turned his attention to the dogs, who were giving him stares eerily reminiscent of his parents on prom night when he'd been caught making out behind the garage with the prom king. After giving them both a "I still love you and I'm not leaving you to run off with this guy" scratch behind the ears (which, incidentally, was much simpler than the conversation he'd ended up having with his parents), he moved around the room, finding comfortable clothes for himself and the necessary items for Jensen, as well as continually petting the dogs who nosed playfully at his ankles.

Finally finding his smallest set of clothes (which would still house a family of refugees but were the best he could do), he left them in a pile on the bed and ran out of the bedroom when he heard the shower shut off, his usually-malfunctioning social filter making it clear that hovering around a naked and mildly traumatized Jensen would definitely be a Bad Thing.

Sadie and Harley chased him down the hall, excited by the new game, only to look at him with betrayed eyes when Jared walked calmly down the stairs. Heading to the kitchen, he heard them padding back along the hall to Jensen and hoped they'd be less inclined to maul him if he was clean and not smelling like a canine doppelganger.

With the ease of a man who'd spent far too many nights making sugar-filled chocolate beverages, Jared rustled up two large mugs of hot cocoa (complete with assorted marshmallow toppings) while he waited for Jensen to change. He loitered uncertainly at the bottom of the stairs, hearing nothing from above him to indicate Jensen was coming down any time in the near future, and then made his way upstairs, marshmallows mingling happily in the chocolate as he went.

"Jensen? You decent?"

Irrational panic sparked through him when Jensen didn't reply to his call, and as he pushed open the bedroom door, he couldn't help imagining the worst, picturing Jensen on the floor, smothered to death by well-meaning but ridiculously clumsy dogs.

Wondering if the dogs had learned their clumsy ways from their owner, and then panicking over whether he could then be held responsible for Jensen’s death, Jared felt relief flood through him when he nudged the door open and saw a still breathing Jensen lying on the bed.

This relief was swiftly superseded by the adorableness of the sight in front of him.

Jensen lay curled up on the bed, looking a healthier color and swamped in Jared's sweats and hoodie as he stroked his fingers in tiny movements through Sadie's fur. The dogs were sprawled next to him, Harley lying over his feet and creating a little drooly puddle on the sheets while Sadie had evidently learned from Jared and was apparently trying to spoon, back pressed against Jensen's stomach as her tail wagged lazily against his legs.

Hearing Jared enter and set the mugs down, Jensen cracked his eyes open, mumbling incoherently, "M'ty smugsbud f'ossum?"

Smiling in bemusement, Jared eased onto the bed next to him, helping out when Jensen tried and failed to push his uncooperating body to a sitting position. Finally getting him propped up on some pillows, he asked teasingly, "What was that?"

Jensen gestured to the mugs, murmuring drowsily, "Melty smorgasbord of awesome?"

Jared grinned broadly, passing him a mug of cocoa. "Yep. Definitely melty, and definitely awesome."

Jensen peered into the swirl of marshmallow. "Definitely smorgasbordy."

Jared was torn between wanting to smoosh him for the cuteness and wanting to give him a mini-diploma for speaking Padalecki so fluently. He settled on a barely audible sigh of appreciation as Jensen sipped the cocoa and made a noise of contentment that Jared really wanted to replicate in a less wholesome context. Pale green marshmallow foam stained his top lip as Jensen swallowed more of the warm liquid and Jared started to wonder if Jensen's lips looked good in every single color of the freaking rainbow.

"Good?" he asked, downing some of his own as Jensen nodded.

"Amazing."

His voice was quiet but honest. Jared wasn't sure how Jensen was managing to stay upright when he sounded and looked that tired, but he suspected the pillows had something to do with it. Yawning himself, he placed his own half-empty mug back on the cabinet and eased Jensen's out of his hands before he dropped it on the bed. Jensen blinked at him as though trying to focus, and then looked back at his hands in confusion. "Where...?"

Shushing him softly, Jared coaxed him to lie back down, shifting the pillows and lifting the sheets over his pliant body. Jensen relaxed into the bed, and Jared felt a stab of relief that he'd been the one to find him that evening, instead of Jeff or anyone else stumbling upon him when he was so vulnerable. The dogs settled back down on the spacious bed, snoozing happily, but before Jared could get up to leave, Jensen's hand closed around his sleeve, tugging insistently as he mumbled, "J'red..."

Jared may have been an honorable guy, but his restraint did not stretch to saying no to Jensen's sleepy-puppy gaze. Letting himself be pulled back by Jensen's weak grip, he slid under the blankets and saw a smile touch the other man's lips at his presence. Staying on his side of the bed, he smiled himself when Jensen drew closer, body curling up against his as he snuffled instinctively into Jared's chest and spoke drowsily, "Warm... Want..."

The rest of his words were lost to the slow breathing of slumber and Jared's own eyelids started to drift shut, saving any problems for the morning as he savored the feel and weight of Jensen's body resting peacefully against his own. His chest rising and falling in time with Jensen's breathing, Jared wrapped his arm around him, dropping a soft kiss to his damp hair before he too surrendered to contented sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning began, like Jared's mornings usually did, with a loud, demanding bark.

Fortunately, the dogs had sensed that their owner would like some alone time with the man curled up in bed next to him and so had migrated downstairs during the night, meaning that the loud, demanding bark was a little less loud than usual. However, while he was spared the delightful wake-up call of Harley's morning breath, the distance didn't manage to make the bark any less demanding and Jared dragged himself back to consciousness with a reluctant groan, blinking blearily up at the ceiling as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the morning sunlight.

Another impatient bark came from downstairs. According to dog time, it was now food o'clock.

Scrubbing the heel of one hand against his eye, Jared glanced at the clock, understanding Sadie's eagerness for food when the timer flashed 9.15am, nearly two hours later than his usual wake-up time. Wondering briefly what Harley was currently attempting to eat (and not doubting for a moment that he was attempting to eat something), Jared sighed in quiet relief at the knowledge that he worked from home and had no meetings scheduled for that morning.

Figuring that he had nothing overly toxic that Harley could be consuming, he decided that the dogs could wait a few more minutes and instead turned his attentions to Jensen who had started to shift sleepily in his arms. Head resting on Jared's shoulder, Jensen was snuggled up against his body, arms wrapped around Jared like he was an over-sized teddy bear. Jared noted with relief that his temperature and complexion were now at a healthier level but still felt something tighten inside him when he saw the bruises blooming on Jensen's cheek and jaw, wishing he'd had a chance to leave matching bruises on his attackers. Or on Jeff. (Jared was fairly flexible about who he beat up.)

Despite the fragility of Jensen's appearance, Jared couldn't stop his eyes from moving to the smattering of freckles across Jensen's nose, the full curve of his lips, and the tousled mess of dark hair which stood out against his white pillows, trying to tamp down the urge to indulge his Sleeping Beauty fantasies and wake Jensen with a kiss. He resisted manfully as Jensen burrowed further into his embrace, slowly stirring back to wakefulness, and Jared stroked his arm soothingly, watching as Jensen's eyes opened.

Jensen blinked slowly, gaze fixing first on the wall, and Jared saw his brow wrinkle as his brain struggled to remember where he was. Jensen's confused green eyes then drifted up to his face in search of further answers and Jared did the inadvisable.

He grinned.

Later, he would blame the unfortunate decision on tiredness, claiming that he was too disoriented to consider the full ramifications of beaming at Jensen like a terrifyingly cheerful tourist in front of the world's largest thermometer. This subsequent rationale did nothing to prevent the smile in question, however, and also failed to make Jensen's reaction seem in any way good.

Regretting his grin the second after it formed, Jared watched helplessly, inwardly cringing when Jensen's eyes widened in surprise before moving down to their intertwined bodies and widening even further in (erroneous) realization.

"Oh God..."

Before Jared could offer any reassurances, Jensen had scrambled out of bed, wanting to get anywhere that wasn't in the arms of Psycho McCrazyGrin. Unfortunately in his panic, Jensen had also forgotten that he was wearing clothes large enough to double as a circus tent and Jared was out of bed a second later when the waiter's feet got caught in the loaned sweats, making him tumble to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

Hearing an involuntary moan of pain, Jared hurried to him, asking in apologetic concern, "Shit... You okay?" Kneeling beside him, he grasped his arms in an effort to help him to his feet. "Fuck, I'm sorry, man. Those pants were the smallest pair I could find and I wasn't exactly thinking you'd be running round in them so-" Jensen backed up hastily as soon as he was standing, and Jared realized too late that manhandling a guy who'd just bolted out of his bed like a scalded cat was probably not up there on the list of Great Ideas. He let go, apologizing again, "Oh, I didn't mean- I-"

Taking a deep breath, Jared tried to pull himself together, shuffling back from Jensen before asking honestly, "You okay?" Jensen nodded and he smiled in relief. "Great. Now, do you remember where you are?"

Jensen glanced around the room but Jared was glad to see his breathing slowing to a more normal rate as he said tentatively, "Your house." His nose scrunched a little as he spoke uncertainly, "I remember your shower, and your car... And dogs?"

Sadie gave a well-timed bark from downstairs, evidently pleased that someone with opposable thumbs remembered her existence. (Harley remained conspicuously quiet and Jared really hoped he hadn't got into the shoe polish again.)

Deciding they could wait, he gave Jensen another smile and prompted nervously, "Do you remember what happened before you came home with me?"

From the way Jensen's face paled, Jared guessed he remembered enough, but he answered nonetheless, "Yeah. I, uh, I was walking home and I ran into the guys from the club. They..." His hand instinctively moved to the bruise on his jaw and Jared saw him shiver at the memory. "We were close to the bay, and they were drunk, and-" He looked up at Jared and swallowed hard. "And you saved me. Thank you."

Aiming for casual, Jared shrugged. "No problem."

Jensen wasn't fooled, holding his gaze as he said sincerely, "I mean it. I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't stopped them." His eyes dropped to the floor, and Jared watched in silence as he toyed anxiously with the loose material of the borrowed sweats, stammering, "It- When we got back, did we- Did I thank you?"

Confused by Jensen's tone, Jared said with a bemused smile, "You just did. Seriously, like ten seconds ago."

He remained perplexed when Jensen bit his lips, cheeks flushed as he murmured thickly, "No, I... Did I thank you?"

This time the question was accompanied by an embarrassed nod towards the bed and the penny finally dropped.

"Oh God." Jensen looked up at him and Jared shook his head vehemently. "No, Jesus, no. We didn't do anything. You were out of it; you wanted me to stay and keep you warm but then you just fell asleep, and I meant to do something but I was tired too, and I didn't realize and..."

He trailed off when he didn't see the expected relief on Jensen's face, instead seeing an expression of resignation as the other man offered with quiet humiliation, "I'm sorry. I'll do it now if you want."

Before the protest could even make it out of Jared's mouth, Jensen took a step forward, dropping to his knees on the carpet and reaching up to lower Jared's sweats.

"Holy shit-" Flailing in panic, Jared leapt backwards, trying to avoid accidentally kicking or smacking Jensen as he did so. "Wait! Wait! This isn't- We're not doing that. You're not doing that. Not like this." Hopefulness mingled with plain bewilderment in Jensen's eyes and Jared tugged his pants back up to a ridiculous height, saying honestly, "Look, I don't know what the hell you thought you had to do, but you don't need to, okay? Christ, Jensen, I don't want a fucking reward for not letting you be drowned last night." Before Jensen could ask the question, he answered preemptively, holding out an arm to help him to his feet, "You don't owe me anything, alright? I just wanted to help you... I didn't want this."

The last word was said with a gesture between the two of them, and Jared sighed when Jensen hunched in on himself, swamped in Jared's hoodie and looking smaller and more vulnerable than normal. Calming down and purposefully softening his tone, he laid a hand on Jensen's shoulder, saying soothingly, "Just take your time, okay? We can get you some breakfast and put your clothes in the dryer and make sure you're feeling alright before I give you a ride home. I can go to the cops with you if you want, but let's get you healthy first."

Jensen blinked, the dazed look of the night before starting to return as he repeated, "Cops?"

Jared nodded. "Yeah. To report the guys from last night? I saw them; you've got a witness right here and a couple dozen more from the club."

"No." Jensen's voice was the most firm it had been all morning. "No cops."

"What?" Jared's hand moved to Jensen's other shoulder as he said with concern, "Dude, they nearly killed you last night. You need to turn them in. What if they-"

"No," he repeated, pulling away from Jared's grip and backing up nervously. "I'm not going to the cops." Looking like a trapped animal, his eyes flickered from the bed to the bathroom to the door as he murmured, "I need to go. Jeff'll be worried if I'm not back this morning."

Jared barely contained his snort of skepticism at Jeff displaying any concern for Jensen whatsoever. Evidently, he didn't hide it well enough and Jensen looked down at the floor, fully aware of the implausibility of his statement. Dejected but determined, he repeated quietly, "I need to go. Thanks again for your help."

Without saying anything else, he headed into the bathroom and was in the process of gathering up his clothes when Jared objected from outside the door, "Hey, you're not going already? Your clothes aren't even dry yet."

This didn't seem to bother Jensen, who continued changing clothes out of Jared's sight.

Sighing, he tried again, "C'mon, at least let me feed you something before you go."

The only noise from the bathroom was the quiet rustle of material.

Jared sighed louder. "Fine, but we're stopping at McDonalds on the way."

Jensen emerged from the bathroom, depositing the worn clothes in Jared's laundry basket before all but running out of the room as he assured, "I'll walk back."

"What?" Feeling like Wile E. Coyote after he'd run off a cliff, Jared looked around in confusion before dashing downstairs after the fleeing Jensen, thoroughly bewildered by the great escape being staged in his hall. The dogs barked around his legs, but he shooed them with a pat, pushing his way over to Jensen who was sliding his shoes on quickly. "Jen, that's like a five mile walk. There's no way you're up to that right now."

He reached out to put a hand on his shoulder but Jensen ducked away from his touch, hurrying to the front door with the promise, "I'm fine. I just need to-"

Jared snapped.

Reached up to slam the door shut, he saw Jensen jump in surprise at the noise before turning back to face him. Leaning in close, he said forcefully, "You are not fine, dude. In case you forgot, you were attacked twice last night. Those guys nearly drowned you and you were willing to get fucking pneumonia by walking home afterwards; that is not fucking 'fine'." Seeing the fear in Jensen's eyes, he backed off, letting go of the door but still staring at him as he said, "You need help, Jen. I don't know what kind of shit Jeff's been pulling on you, but you need to look after yourself. You need rest, you need food, and right now you need someone to stop you from doing something stupid." He felt his anger trickle away under Jensen's wide-eyed gaze and he shook his head sadly, hair falling messily to his eyes. "Just let me help you. Please."

"Why?" There was nothing accusatory in Jensen's voice, and the broken uncertainty of the question tugged at something inside Jared as he asked again softly, "Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Jen, I-"

"You saw me last night," Jensen interrupted shakily. "You were there in the locker room. You saw what I did with Jeff."

His tone held a challenge and Jared dropped his eyes to the floor in shame, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck.

That was enough of an admission and Jensen asked again, not understanding. "Why would you help me after that? Why did you bring me here when you know what I am?"

Jared's head snapped up at the question and he repeated, "'What you are'? Jesus Christ, what am I supposed to think you are? A whore? A slut? Is that it?" Jensen flinched and Jared's eyebrows rose in disbelief. "Fuck, Jensen, do you really think I'm going to think any less of you because I saw you like that?"

Jared took his silence as an affirmation and ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. "Look, I heard what Jeff told you, but it's bullshit. No-one thinks that you're like that. Hell, as far as I can tell, the whole club loves you." He gave him a half-smile, which faded back into an expression of sincerity when he saw the uncertainty on Jensen's face, and made a last-ditch effort. "You wanna know why I'm being so nice to you? Really?"

Jensen blinked up at him, scared but curious, and he admitted honestly, "Because I like you." Jensen's lips parted in surprise and Jared smiled. "And not because of how well you clean tables, or how pretty your lips look, or any other crappy reason Jeff gives you."

He took a step closer, smiling wider when Jensen didn't cower back and saying with bashful openness, "I like how you tease me when I try on really ugly shirts. I like how you put up with me even when I spit my drink out and drop my ice cream on the ground. I like how my dogs now think you're the second coming." He moved in again, unable to stop the words now flowing out of his mouth, "I like your freckles, and your glasses, and that little happy sound you make right before you start eating. I like the way you smile, and the feel of you in my arms when I wake up, and, God, I really want to kiss you right now…"

The last statement came as a surprise to both of them but seeing Jensen unconsciously lick his lips, Jared couldn't stop himself from leaning in, his body up close against Jensen's as he slowly closed that tiny gap between them. His eyes fell shut, but his lips barely brushed Jensen's before the other man turned away so quickly that his head knocked into the door behind him.

Jared's eyes flew open at the thunk, but Jensen backed off before he could check his head, edging out from between the door and Jared's body as he stumbled over his words, "Stop it. Just- Whatever game you're playing, just stop it, okay?"

Stunned to see hurt tears glinting in Jensen's eyes, Jared held up his hands in defense, approaching cautiously. "Jensen, I'm not-"

"Stop it," Jensen repeated, upset. "I don't know why you're doing this, but it's not funny. Please, leave me alone; I never did anything to you."

Lost, Jared struggled to understand. "Jen, I'm not lying to you, I swear. This isn't a joke or a game or anything... Is it really that strange that I might actually care about you?"

Jensen's eyes fell to the floor and he shrugged helplessly, whispering, "I've got Jeff, I- Why would anyone else..."

"Want you?" Jared filled in, astounded. "Why wouldn't people want you? Whatever Jeff told you, it's crap." His finger traced Jensen's jaw before crooking under his chin and lifting his head to face him. "You deserve so much better than him."

Blinking back tears, Jensen shook his head, answering out of instinct, "We're happy together..."

"No," Jared shot back, louder than he intended. "You're not happy. Sure, Jeff probably is, seeing as how he's got you running round after him all the fucking time, but there's no way you're happy with him."

Jensen opened his mouth to argue but Jared cut him off again, voice verging on mocking, "No? You telling me you are happy? You like being at Jeff's beck and call? You like him shoving you to your knees rather than looking after you?" Angered more at Jeff's behavior than at Jensen, he towered over the other man, asking roughly, "You like being treated like shit?"

"Stop..."

Jensen's hands came up to his chest, trying weakly to push him away, but Jared grasped his wrists, holding him still as he spoke with the same intensity, "You shouldn't stay with him. I'm not saying you have to be with me, but you shouldn't be with an asshole like him. Not when there's someone else who wouldn't treat you like a fucking animal."

Jensen flinched at the words, eyes wide and watering as he stared up at Jared, and too late Jared realized that his arms were trembling in his grip.

"Shit."

Instantly releasing Jensen's wrists, he stepped back, running a hand through his hair with a frustrated sigh as he apologized lamely, "Fuck, Jensen, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

His words were cut off by the sudden sensation of lips against his own and Jared froze for a millisecond before he realized that Jensen was pressed up against him, arms looped round his neck as he kissed him desperately. Stunned yet ecstatic at the fact that he'd got through to him, Jared's lips curved him a smile, before the insistent pressure of Jensen's tongue reminded him that there were far more important things he should be doing with his mouth.

Arms wrapping around Jensen's still shaking body, he kissed him hungrily, teeth nipping playfully at Jensen's bottom lip before he licked inside. Jensen groaned quietly into his mouth as Jared's tongue slid across his own, tasting the familiar tang of his own mouthwash and the lingering sweetness of the previous night's marshmallows as well as the new flavor of Jensen himself. The break for air was brief and unwanted, and Jared guided them unconsciously to the stairs, their lips barely parting when they stumbled across the carpet.

Hands exploring Jensen's still-clothed body, Jared gave a small whine of protest when he felt the lips leave his own, and opened his eyes to see Jensen disappearing from his eye-line as he started to sink to his knees, hands resting on Jared's hips and leaving no doubt as to what he had in mind.

As much as he wanted to see those kiss-swollen lips wrapped around his cock, Jared couldn't help but think of Jensen feeling compelled to offer the same thing in the bedroom earlier. Ignoring the ache of protest from his dick, he grasped Jensen's shoulders and pulled him back to his feet, murmuring in between kisses, "No. Let me."

Jensen tensed up a little at the request but Jared rubbed a soothing hand between his shoulder blades, walking him backward until his heels met the stairs, causing him to fall to a seat on one of the wooden steps with a yelp of surprise. Chuckling a little, Jared leaned over to kiss him deeply before trailing slow, deliberate licks and nibbles down his jaw, neck and collarbone.

"Jared..."

Jensen shivered under his hands in anticipation and Jared lowered himself to his knees between Jensen's spread legs, bracing himself on the stairs as he instructed, "Just relax, Jen. Let me look after you."

A choked sob caught in Jensen's throat and Jared's hand paused on the zipper as he glanced up at him in concern. Jensen's eyes were closed and his breathing heavy but any doubts Jared had about him wanting this were erased when he looked down at him in confused disappointment when he stopped his ministrations.

Flashing him an apologetic smile, Jared dropped a kiss on the inside of his wrist while he continued to work Jensen's damp jeans open. Jensen's hand flexed nervously in his grip, and Jared guided it to the side of his head, smiling when he felt Jensen's fingers start to toy with the locks of hair that fell to his neck. With both hands now free, he eased Jensen's cock out of his pants, feeling it harden further when he pressed a slow kiss to the head.

Smiling to himself, he flicked his tongue across the slit and heard Jensen above him, asking shakily, "Jared, you sure you wanna do this? I can-"

The offer was replaced by a gasp of "Oh God" when Jared repeated the movement before lifting his mouth away and sliding a hand slicked with spit and pre-come in firm strokes up and down his length. He felt and heard Jensen lean back against the wood of the stairs, legs parting further in wordless encouragement, and he closed his lips around the head, working messily with his tongue to the sound of Jensen's moans.

Letting more of his cock slip between his lips, Jared moved his hand in quick pumps, occasionally breaking the rhythm to roll his balls or gently tickle his perineum with his little finger. No matter what he did, whimpers and pleas continued to fall from Jensen's mouth in a steady stream that went straight to Jared's own dick and he palmed himself carefully through his sweats, wanting to make this good for Jensen rather than being distracted by his aching length.

He kept his own strokes slow and smooth while gradually increasing the speed of his movements around Jensen's cock, and felt Jensen's hand tightening in his hair involuntarily, the muscles in his thighs trembling as he got closer to the edge. With what Jared guessed took a great deal of effort, Jensen soon loosened his grip, gasping out what might have been an apology, and he let his tongue play against the slit again in an attempt to reassure him that a little hair-pulling was not a problem.

Jensen appeared to get the message but was unable to stop his hips bucking up off the stairs a little, groans and whimpers getting louder and more arousing. Jared kept up the pace but was unable to stop his free hand slipping inside his own pants, pulling his dick out and jerking off needily.

Breathing in through his nose, he took Jensen as deep as he could manage, finger brushing teasingly at his perineum once more, and jacked himself faster when the other man came with a cry, moaning in enjoyment as Jared did his best to swallow everything he gave. Taking in the last few spurts, Jared lifted his mouth from Jensen's cock as he closed his eyes, stroking himself easily to completion at the sound of Jensen's deep breaths and sated sounds of contentment. His come splattered quietly on the step and he sat back on his heels, regaining his breath and pulling his pants back up before looking up at Jensen with a small smile.

He felt a pang of worry when he saw the tear-tracks down the other man's cheeks, but that vanished when Jensen looked at him, green eyes filled with grateful amazement, and leaned forward to kiss him shyly on the lips before murmuring against his cheek, "Thank you."

Planting a kiss on his jaw, Jared brushed away the lingering tears as he asked softly, "You okay?"

Foreheads resting together, he felt Jensen nod and swallow hard. "I'm fine. Just… Jeff never- He doesn't..."

Understanding what Jensen was trying to say, Jared felt his temporarily extinguished Jeff-hate flare up again, and met Jensen's eyes. "Leave him."

He already knew the answer before he spoke but that didn't make it feel any better when Jensen pulled back and lowered his head, saying ashamedly, "I can't... I'm sorry, I-"

"Hey, it's okay," Jared reassured quickly, not wanting to spray-paint over this particular milestone with Jeff-based graffiti. "It doesn't matter right now." He kissed him again, feeling Jensen relaxing against him, and said with a hopeful smile, "Tell me you'll at least let me get you some food and dry clothes now though."

Jensen's lips curved up in genuine amusement and he conceded with tentatively, "Guess I owe you that much."

"You don't owe me anything," Jared replied honestly before pushing himself to his feet with a grin and giving Jensen another kiss. "Although I'm still taking that as a yes on the food and clothes." Jensen smiled as he stood up as well, but Jared clarified, "Seriously, Jen, you don't owe me for this. I'm not Jeff; I don't keep score and you don't need to make anything up to me."

Jensen smiled again, happy but still looking amazed by what he was saying, and this time Jared couldn't resist the urge to pull him into a brief hug, kissing the top of his head and then pulling away before he smothered him (either in the figurative or literal sense.)

Some of Jensen's happiness had faded when he looked back up at him and worry started to creep into his tone as he said, "I don't know what I'm going to do about Jeff. You're amazing, and good to me, but he... I can't leave him; he's everything I’ve got…"

"Don't worry about that right now," Jared cut in comfortingly, not wanting to send him into a tailspin when he'd just brought him back to earth. "Jeff, us, and everything else can wait till after you get cleaned up and fed." Jensen seemed to calm down, and he grinned, hearing the dogs bark from the kitchen. "Okay, you go hunt through my dresser and see if you can find any less gigantic clothes to wear while yours are drying off, and I'll clean up down here and make some breakfast. You want Gummi worms or Twizzlers?"

Jensen's eyebrows rose in disbelief at the suggestion and Jared feigned offence. "Hey, you making fun of my deeply nutritious breakfast?" His mock-severity melted away when Jensen laughed, and he conceded, "Fine. Candy can be an after-breakfast snack. You want pancakes or French toast?"

Moving up the stairs, Jensen answered teasingly, "Whichever one you don't put marshmallows on."

Heading into the kitchen to get a cloth, Jared called back, "Dude, you love my marshmallows and you know it."

The dogs started barked enthusiastically as soon as he entered, and Jared didn't know whether or not he imagined Jensen replying quietly, "Yeah, I do."


	7. Chapter 7

They needed to talk about Jeff.

As much as Jared really didn't want to have thoughts of Jeff occupying any part of his brain, preferring to think about candy, Jensen, sex, or some amalgamation of the three, he was starting to realize that the topic was inevitable. Not only was Jensen still working at Jeff's club, but he was still going home to sleep in Jeff's bed almost every night, despite Jared's attempts to convince him otherwise. Sure, he'd been okay with Jensen's indecision for a couple of days, but after two and a half weeks, the Jeff-elephant in the room was starting to trumpet loudly and break furniture.

So, like a calm, rational person, Jared had intended to sit down with Jensen and have a well-thought-out conversation about how awkward it was to have Jeff hanging over them like a asshole-ish anvil and how they should come up with a solution together.

Unfortunately, this scheme had never got past the 'sit down with Jensen' stage. Every time Jared had got Jensen alone, either at his house or at the club, his mind had gone inconveniently blank, replacing all his intelligent thoughts with "Want Jensen. Want Jensen. Want Jensen." He'd then gone from 'sitting down with Jensen' to 'sitting down with Jensen in his lap kissing him' which, while very enjoyable, was not the most productive of activities.

However, he'd decided tonight would be different.

He'd gone to the Cut-n-Thrust strip club, knowing he'd be able to catch Jensen on his break and take him outside to talk privately. He'd promised himself he would not get distracted from his task by kissing or groping or any other heavy petting. He'd considered the options available to both of them and come up with the best possible tactics to persuade Jensen to amicably split up with Jeff and move in with him instead. Hell, he'd even brought flashcards.

Jared was thus understandably confused when he found himself pressed up against a rack of brooms in a closet with his jeans around his ankles and Jensen's lips around his dick.

"Oh God..."

Jensen interpreted the quiet exclamation as an encouragement (which, in all honesty, it was) and Jared groaned as the wet tunnel of Jensen's mouth engulfed more of his length, sending one hand scrabbling for purchase against the wall behind him while the other slid easily into the waiter's short hair.

Mindful that only a thin wooden door separated them from the rest of the world, Jared tried in vain to stifle the groans spilling from his mouth when he looked down to see Jensen's cheeks hollowing as he sucked and his own cock outlined sinfully by full pink lips.

"Fuck, Jen, that's good..."

Jensen's eyes shone at the praise, and Jared was once again relieved to see satisfaction on his face rather than the empty submission he'd witnessed with Jeff less than three weeks earlier. They may not have had sex yet but blow-jobs were becoming a standard part of their sexual repertoire and, after a brief panic that Jensen would start viewing him as another Jeff, Jared had been persuaded to be on the receiving rather than the giving end half the time.

"Jesus..."

Judging by the coil of heat winding its way up his spine, this was definitely a wise decision.

There was no way the tempting bow of Jensen's lips could be classified as false advertising; his tongue, teeth, lips and throat all worked Jared quickly to the edge with unassuming skill, and he closed his eyes, barely feeling his head colliding with the brooms as it dropped back in ecstasy. His hand suddenly clutched Jensen's hair and he fought to keep himself from yelling aloud when Jensen swallowed him down even further. The sensation was too much, and Jared clapped a hand over his mouth, biting down on his own fingers to hush his cries of pleasure as he came with surprising force, hips rocking under Jensen's hands while he continued to swallow around his throbbing length.

Overwhelmed by the pressure in his chest, Jared collapsed against the closet wall as he gasped desperately for breath, colors still pulsing weakly behind his eyelids. His senses and motor functions slowly slid back into operation to the feel of Jensen's tongue and hands cleaning him up before lifting his jeans back up his legs and rebuttoning them with gentle fingers.

By the time Jared's hands were working well enough to help him out, he'd already finished, and he opened his eyes to see Jensen getting to his feet, a shy but happy smile on his face as he asked, "You okay?"

Smiling tiredly, Jared reached out, his hand cupping the back of Jensen's head and drawing him in for a clumsy kiss with the assurance, "I'm awesome."

Tasting the tang of his own release on Jensen's tongue, he felt Jensen smile into the kiss before pulling away and saying teasingly, "When are you not awesome?"

Jared grinned and shrugged, leaving his arm resting casually on the other's shoulder. "Maybe when I'm being out-awesomed by you." He pressed a light kiss to Jensen's nose and watched him twitch it contentedly. "That was amazing." Another kiss, another twitch. "Thank you."

Jensen ducked his head in embarrassment, but Jared didn't miss the small smile of pride that touched his lips, marveling once again how much simple appreciation pleased him. Not wanting to return to the world outside the closet where Jensen had to work and Jared had to not show his affection in public, he held his hips, kissing him once more before asking, "Want me to return the favor? I've been practicing on a candy cane all afternoon..."

His hand inched round to the front of his pants but Jensen laughed against his cheek and shook his head. "I'm sorry. I've got to get back to work." He stepped back a little, eyes downcast while he toyed nervously with Jared's belt loops and said, "I- Jeff told me he's not coming home tonight, so if you want, I could come round after work?" His gaze darted up to his face before dropping back down as he added, "Only if that's alright with you. I mean, it'll be late, and you'll probably have better things to do than hang out with me-"

"Hey," Jared interrupting, crooking a finger under his chin and tilting his head up to face him. "I never have anything better to do than you."

His mind re-interpreted that statement and he explained quickly, "'Do' in the 'hang out with' sense, not 'do' as in..." He did an uncomfortably accurate imitation of the other definition of 'do' before cringing. "Shit, I'm sorry, I'm an idiot." Taking a deep breath, he tried again, addressing a now amused Jensen, "Yes, I want you to come round tonight. Do you want me to hang out here till your shift's done or..."

Jensen shook his head. "I don't want you to have to wait around that long; I'll get a taxi."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." He smiled again, honest and open as he admitted, "The fare's more than worth it."

This admission was rewarded by a deep kiss from Jared, who pushed himself away from the wall and enveloped Jensen in his arms as his tongue leisurely explored his mouth. Jensen instantly relaxed in his embrace, calming down and accepting his attentions so much faster than he had for the first week they'd been together, and Jared felt a tingle of pleasure buzz up his spine at the sigh of contentment that slipped from Jensen's lips when they broke apart.

With an unwilling sigh, Jared began with "I should probably go-" at the same time Jensen murmured, "I need to get back to-"

They fell silent at the same time, and Jensen reached to snag Jared's jacket off a broom as he asked hopefully, "I'll see you later?"

Jared grinned. "Definitely. Harley and Sadie will think it's Christmas if you show up tonight."

Offering up his jacket, Jensen asked mockingly, "You do know I'm not Santa, right? 'Cause you should probably break this to your dogs before I show up without any presents."

Beaming at the fact Jensen now shared his habit of referring to his dogs like children, Jared feigned horror as he said, "You mean you're not Santa?!" Jensen smacked him on the arm and he relented, "Fine, fine. They think you're, like, the dog messiah anyway." He wrestled in his arms into his jacket as he teased, "They've got hymns and everything."

"Hymns?" the waiter repeated skeptically.

"Yeah. It just sounds like barking to the untrained ear, but really it's the Hallelujah choru-" He interrupted himself with a quiet curse of "Shit!" when his coat folded over itself, sending his forgotten flashcards scattering over the closet floor. "Sorry."

Instinctively protective of the incriminating notes, he dropped to a crouch to gather them back up. Unfortunately, the ever-helpful Jensen had the same thought and their heads butted painfully together in the cramped space, the infamous Padalecki forehead knocking Jensen back against a stack of buckets with a clatter.

His apology this time was a lot more panicked. "Fuck, I'm sorry. Did that- Are you okay? You conscious? Seeing double? Any spinal injuries?"

Detangling himself from the buckets, Jensen shook his head, cutting in with a smile. "I'm fine." He rubbed his head gingerly. "Although it does kinda feel like I lost a fight with a two-by-four. Dude, is your head made out of concrete?"

"Adamantium," Jared corrected with a grin. "I'm actually Wolverine."

"Such a geek," Jensen murmured under his breath. He tilted his head in contemplation, saying a little louder, "Guess that explains the hair then."

Pocketing more of his cards, Jared shook his hair out of his eyes, imitating indignation, "Hey, this takes work." Jensen looked dubious and he elbowed him in the ribs. "You love my hair and you know it."

Jensen's cheeks colored in the dim light of the closet and Jared punched the air triumphantly. "Ha. I knew it!"

"Shut up," he muttered in embarrassment, and Jared's intended comeback died on his lips when he saw Jensen pick up a couple of the cards.

His reflexes failed him and he could do nothing other than sit in stunned silence while he watched him scan the notes, brow knitting in confusion.

"Jen, I-"

Jensen's eyes shot up to his, the emotion in them wavering between hurt and angry. "What are these?"

"It's nothing; they're just-"

"Just what, Jared?" he asked, voice raising as secrecy became less important than truth. "You wanna stop what we're doing? If you're bored with me, you don't need to make notes about it." His voice broke a little on the last words, but he swallowed hard, saying with as much courage as he could muster, "Please, just be straight with me."

Concerned with Jensen's words rather than his volume, Jared said softly, "Hey, shhh. It's okay." He put a hand on his shoulder, reassuring honestly, "The last thing I wanna do is leave you, alright? I promise." Before Jensen could ask again, Jared eased the colored paper out of his hands as he confessed sheepishly, "They're flashcards."

Jensen blinked. "Flashcards."

"Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck as he mumbled, "I know I keep getting distracted but we really need to have a conversation about Jeff, and if I actually had a conversation about Jeff, I'd end up saying something stupid or insulting or misleading, so I figured that if I had flashcards, I could know what I was going to say and then I might finally be able to convince you to leave the asshole and be with me instead."

He paused for breath, looking down at the flashcards which had clearly failed in their conversation-helping purpose and sighing. "I'm sorry, I-"

"It's okay." Jensen's voice was even and Jared wasn't sure whether to be happy or sad that his expression was now serious rather than hurt. He watched him twine his fingers together, saying quietly, "I get that we need to talk about this. I know this must be frustrating for you, and I'm sorry." He ducked his head, ashamed, as he asked, "Can we talk about it tonight? My break's over and Jeff'll be-" Jared couldn't stop his lips from pursing at the name and Jensen corrected quickly, "I'll be in trouble if I'm not back. Please?"

"No problem," he answered, slipping the cards back into his jacket before getting carefully to his feet. Seeing Jensen start for the door, he moved to intercept him, placing his hands on his hips and hoping to diffuse some of the awkward tension as he said, "Jen, I'm not blaming you for any of this, okay? I don't want you going out there thinking this is an ultimatum or that I'm trying to pressure you into anything." He met his eyes, saying sincerely, "I'd rather share you with Jeff than not have you at all. All I want to do tonight is work out what's going to be best in the long-run. And trust me, I want there to be a long-run."

Jensen's lips curved up in a timid smile, and Jared couldn't resist kissing them briefly before amending his earlier statement, "Well, maybe talking's not all I want to do tonight." The other man's smile relaxed a little and despite wanting to kiss this smile too, Jared manfully restrained himself, instead indulging in a melodramatic sigh. "I'll see you tonight."

Jensen kissed his cheek softly before moving to the door, repeating before he slipped out, "See you tonight."

The pounding of the music got louder when the door opened, but he left quickly, leaving Jared a few moments to gather his thoughts before he followed. Shoving the now-hated flashcards back down in his pocket, he checked the floor for any strays as well as checking that he looked clean and presentable. Finally satisfied that his appearance did not indicate he'd been the recipient of an incredible blow job five minutes earlier, Jared exited the broom cupboard and headed back to the main floor of the club, relieved that no-one seemed to think he looked suspicious.

Ignoring Chris and Steve on the stage, who were tonight wearing neon thongs and gyrating to "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go", he headed for the exit, and tried and failed to prevent his eyes from seeking out Jensen as he went. As expected, Jensen didn't acknowledge him, focused instead on the tray of drinks he was carrying, but Jared let out a frightened yelp when a darkly smiling face suddenly blocked his view.

He stumbled back a little, recovering from his surprise when he heard Jeff's familiar laugh booming in his ears. A heavy hand clapped his shoulder, and he straightened up, giving Jeff a tight smile as he said in abrupt greeting, "Jeff. I was just leaving."

Jeff wasn't fazed. "C'mon, boy. Stay for another few drinks. Chris'll be done in a few minutes - I know you like watching him dance."

Unable to tell Jeff that the past dances he'd received from Chris had been more like stripper-hosted interrogations about his relationship with Jensen, Jared settled for a shrug and a polite decline. "I'm good, thanks. I think I've had enough excitement for one night."

Jeff laughed again, the sound rough and hollow against the loud music. "Can never have enough excitement, kid. Don't be shy; there must be one of these fine gentlemen here that takes your fancy."

Backing away, Jared held up his hands in protest. "No, really, I'm-"

"Jenny!"

Jared froze at Jeff's call, eyes wide open and mouth unable to stay closed as horrified shock jolted through his body. Trying to force his brain to work out how Jeff could possibly know about him and Jensen and, more importantly, how he could possibly get them both out of this mess, he missed Jeff's next words, staring in confusion when the owner asked cheerfully, "How about it?"

Still doing his best not to pass out from shock, he repeated weakly, "How about what?"

"Jenny," Jeff answered openly, and Jared saw that Jensen was now pressed up against his side, the older man's arm tight around his hunched shoulders and his eyes fixed on the floor. "You always seem to get talking to him when you come here," Jeff continued easily. "If it's him you're interested in, I'm sure we can work something out."

Staring between the two of them in disbelief, Jared stammered stupidly, "But- But he's a waiter. He doesn't- He's not a stripper..."

Jeff shrugged, tightening his grip on Jensen. "He'll do pretty much anything for money, won't you, Jen?" Jensen said nothing, and Jeff's eyes stayed locked on Jared as he added, "I'm just looking to keep my customers happy, that's all."

More than anything, Jared wanted to punch him. Wanted to knock that smug grin off Jeff's face, pull Jensen into his own arms, and never set foot in that goddamn club again. Unfortunately, 'want' had no value at that moment, and all he could do was meet Jensen's humiliated gaze and accept his mouthed plea of "Go".

Feeling like a knight who was leaving the damsel in distress behind to be dragon chow - well, the masculine equivalent of damsel in distress since Jensen was not remotely damsel-ish - Jared gave Jeff a forced smile of regret and apologized, "I'd love to, dude, but I've really gotta get going. Hope you have a great night though." His eyes darted to Jensen before he left, and he was relieved to see a tiny smile touch his lips when Jared winked at him cheesily.

If Jeff was disappointed, he didn't show it, instead shaking his hand and saying jovially, "That's a shame. Hope to see you back again soon."

Thankful he wasn't pressing the matter, he nodded enthusiastically, backing quickly toward the door. "Right. Sure. Awesome." Directing his words to Jensen, he called back, "See you soon."

The door swung shut behind him, and he gasped when the cold night air hit him like a fist. Wrapping himself up in his coat, he concentrated on thoughts of Jensen, which never failed to have a mildly inappropriate warming effect, and as he headed for his car, he reminded himself yet again that they definitely needed to talk about Jeff.

+++

The nerves kicked in as soon as he got home.

Settling on his couch with his dogs, an impressively bad movie, and a large mug of coffee, Jared couldn't stop himself watching the clock on the DVD player and conducting internal calculations about what time Jensen would get off work, how long the cab ride back would take, and how long they'd need to talk about Jeff before moving on to more recreational activities.

These calculations took all of ten minutes, and after working out that Jensen would be likely to arrive at about 2am, he glared in annoyance at the timer which stubbornly read 12.02. Feeling himself being lulled to sleep by Harley's snoring, he took a large gulp of his coffee and watched as some screaming teenager was cheerfully dismembered on screen, unconsciously replacing the serial killer's victim with Jeff and then smiling to himself at the thought.

As more and more promiscuous high school students were dispatched by the killer with the skewed moral values - Adultery? Bad. Murder? Yay. - Jared found his panic steadily rising alongside the shrill shrieks of the movie's heroine. Try as he might, he couldn't help but imagine the worst, thinking Jensen would go home with Jeff instead of coming to see him, or that Jeff was currently demolishing the shaky foundations of the self-esteem he'd spent the last three weeks helping Jensen to build. He worried about the content and outcome of their impending discussion, concerned that his flashcards had now scared Jensen off for good (although seeing as how Jensen had accidentally stumbled upon Jared's stash of cowboy porn and collection of interestingly scented lubes, it was a fairly safe bet that flashcards wouldn't send him running for the hills).

Tense with this anxiety, Jared curled up a little on the couch, looping his arms around his legs and watching silently as the busty blonde heroine crept slowly up the stairs, giving the viewer a good view of her pink panties as she went. Knowing what was coming, he held his breath in anticipation as she edged into the old bedroom and shone her torch on the creaking wooden closet. The camera moved in when she reached out a shaking hand to open it, but the sudden appearance of the grotesque face of the killer coincided with a loud bang on Jared's door, producing high-pitched screams from the woman on the television and the startled man on the couch.

Heart pounding, Jared pushed himself to his feet to answer the door, while the disfigured madman chased the heroine and her jiggling breasts down the stairs and his dogs still snored happily in front of the TV. Seeing that it was only 12.20 and that Jensen wasn't due for at least another hour, he wondered whether he'd ordered pizza at some point and subconsciously blocked it out. (Accidental food delivery happened more often than usual in the Padalecki household and if it wasn't for her lack of opposable thumbs, he would've been convinced Sadie was in on this somehow.)

He swung open the door but his initial relief at the absence of unexplained pizza gave way to wide-eyed concern when he saw the pallor of Jensen's face and the trickle of blood from his split lip.

"I want to be with you."

All his attention on the tiny trail of red, it took Jared a moment to process the statement before blinking in astonishment. "What?"

"I want to be with you," Jensen repeated, voice shaking slightly as he spoke. "I'll leave Jeff tomorrow. I'll stop working at the club if that's what you want, just-" He swallowed hard. "I'm sorry for not saying this sooner. I- I'll understand if you've changed your mind; you don't have to- I mean, I'll get it if you don't want..."

"No," Jared cut in, louder than he intended, but saw Jensen's eyes drop and corrected, "Shit, no, not 'no' like that. 'No' like I don't not want you, not that I don't want you." Getting more and more confused, he opted to open the door fully and usher Jensen inside and out of the cold before trying a different tack. "What happened to your lip?"

Jensen's hand instinctively moved to his swelling lip, dabbing at the blood as he answered quietly, "Jeff." Seeing Jared's eyes widen even further, he explained awkwardly, "We had a fight after you left. I think he was drunk; he kept trying to offer me to customers, but when I said no, he-" He gestured the growing bruise on his face, finishing with a whisper, "He got angry."

Seeing him look down again, Jared reached out, gently cupping his cheek and coaxing him to meet his eyes as he said sincerely, "Jensen, this wasn't your fault. Jeff's an asshole who doesn't know what he's got." Jensen managed a half-hearted smile and Jared asked gently, "Does he- Has he ever got angry like this before?"

Jensen shook his head. "Not really. There were a couple of times when he came home drunk and didn't know what he was doing, but he's never hit me on purpose before."

Jared doubted the truth of that statement, not entirely believing that the other times had been accidental, but brushed it off, inquiring further, "Did you leave him?"

"Not yet," Jensen confessed. "He sent me home early; he said we'd talk when he got back from work tonight." Jared checked his watch and he answered pre-emptively, "He shouldn't be back till three at the earliest."

"You going back there?" Jared asked with concern. "Jen, if he's had more to drink..."

"I won't stay long," he promised. "Just to tell him I'm leaving." The shyness returned when he asked tentatively, "Can I stay with you? Just till I find somewhere else to live... I'll pay rent, and I don't have much stuff, just some books and clothes; it won't take up much space."

Jared grinned. "Dude, I'm an architect. Squeezing stuff into places is pretty much my job description." His smile faded as he added, "Seriously, Jen, you're welcome here any time. You're gonna have more of a problem with me letting you move out than letting you move in."

The other man smiled and Jared moved in to kiss him to the side of his lips in order to avoid the bruise. Jensen exhaled in contentment under his touch before Jared pulled away and asked curiously, "Not to sound ungrateful, because having you turn up on my doorstep is all I could ask for in an evening, but are you sure you're okay to be here? If Jeff's expecting you home when he gets back..."

"I asked the taxi driver to come back at two-thirty," Jensen admitted with a guilty smile. "I kinda wanted some time alone with you before I saw Jeff."

Jared's smile was back in full force as he teased, "Some time alone with me, huh? What did you have in mind, Jen? Guitar Hero? Walking the dogs? Watching infomercials?"

"I was thinking Monopoly," Jensen countered with mock-seriousness and Jared raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, really?" He moved in, sliding his hands down Jensen's hips as he contemplated, "That could work. Do not pass Go." He kissed Jensen's jaw and felt him shiver. "Do not collect $200." He bit down on his neck and heard his sharp intake of breath. "Get out of jail free."

He started to kiss his way down his collarbone but paused when Jensen laughed, arms going around his neck as he commented, "You suck at dirty talk."

Jared scowled as if offended. "Hey, it's hard to make Monopoly sound sexy."

Jensen nodded sympathetically. "I think you've just worked out why there's no Monopoly porn." Jared's brow wrinkled and Jensen sighed. "Oh God, please don't tell me you're actually considering it."

"No," Jared denied quickly, kissing him again in apology before murmuring against his neck, "The car would definitely top though."

Jensen chuckled, ducking away from Jared's roaming lips as he asked innocently, "So, you going to be the car then?"

It took Jared a second to register this, but when it clicked, he looked at Jensen in amazement, suddenly unable to filter his words. "Did you just use Monopoly innuendo to say you want to have sex?"

Apparently Jensen was no longer fazed by word vomit as he just rolled his eyes at the question. "Nice to see you can take all the romance out of it, Jay."

"Dude, you just propositioned me with Monopoly. How is that romantic?"

"You're right." He pressed a kiss to his lips, biting down on Jared's bottom lip before suggesting, "But maybe I don't want romantic." Jared frowned as Jensen backed toward the stairs with a knowing glint in his eyes. "Jared, last time you tried to sweep me off my feet, you fell over and nearly broke my leg against the coffee table. I don't want grand gestures here." His smile grew softer as he confessed, "I- I prepped before you came to the club tonight. I just want this to feel good." Stepping up onto the stairs, he met his eyes, saying as boldly as he could, "Fuck me."

Jared's dick had already started stirring at the mere prospect of Jensen-sex, but his pants became uncomfortably tight at the declaration. To his surprise, he only managed to get even more turned on when Jensen's courage faded a little and he added teasingly, "The thimble would bottom."

Propelled into action by, of all things, Monopoly foreplay, Jared jogged over to the stairs, trying not to knock them both over as they made their way upstairs to the bedroom and making another helpful observation between gropes and kisses, "The top hat would be into roleplay."

One of Jensen's hands crept under his shirt as he played along, "The iron would want to change the sheets straight after."

Jared nipped at his ear. "The cannon would come too soon."

Jensen rolled his hips, letting Jared back him down the corridor and toward the bed. "The battleship, ah- The battleship would have performance anxiety."

Jared pushed Jensen's shirt up his torso, still kissing his neck as he pinched a nipple between his fingers. "The shoe would be into kink."

Letting him pull his tee over his head, Jensen went to work on Jared's shirt, unfastening the buttons quickly. "The wheelbarrow would try anything once."

Eyes closing as Jensen kissed a path down his bare chest, Jared admitted, "I can't think of any more Monopoly pieces."

Jensen sighed. "Thank God."

He pushed his shirt off his shoulders and closed his mouth around one of his nipples as Jared groaned loudly before threading a hand into his hair and tugging him up to plant a deep but careful kiss on his lips. Hands poised at the front of his jeans, he asked in confirmation, "You sure you wanna do this?"

Jensen's answer came in the form of another roll of his hips, and a rough whisper in his ear of "Pretty fucking sure."

Grinning, Jared unzipped his jeans, pulling them down his legs and kicking them off along with his boxers as the other man did the same. Tossing a tube of (non-freakishly-scented) lube on the bed, Jared let himself be guided on top of Jensen, his body resting between his spread legs as he lapped and sucked at his nipples with lips and tongue. Jensen shivered beneath him, his hardening cock rubbing against Jared's own and inciting the older man to rock his hips upward in search of more friction.

With a smirk, Jared pinned his hips to the bed, continuing his ministrations to his nipples as Jensen arched helplessly, gasping in frustration when he was unable to gain any useful movement. "Bastard..."

Momentary panic flashed through him at the curse, but it was assuaged by the smile lingering on Jensen's lips as he started to tickle along Jared's sides in a bid for freedom. Biting back a shout of laughter, he wriggled away from the fingers and smoothly braceleted Jensen's wrists with his own large hand, pinning them above his head as the other man let out a moan that was half annoyance, half arousal. Chuckling against his chest, Jared bit down sharply on one of his nipples and said teasingly when Jensen bucked under him, "C'mon, Jen, tickling? That's kind of unfair."

"Unfair?" Jensen struggled half-heartedly against the hand locked around his wrists. "Your hands are like twice the normal siz- Ah!" He groaned when one of the hands in question closed around his cock, pumping lazily as he squirmed. "Fuck, Jay..."

Nuzzling at the sensitive skin of Jensen's exposed upper arms, he teased, "Is that a request?"

His hand paused mid-stroke and Jensen whimpered, "Yes... Please..."

"Ah, ah," he chided softly. "I can't reach yet. Not since one of my hands is otherwise engaged." Still holding his wrists to the bed, Jared rolled his balls with his other before murmuring darkly in Jensen's ear, "Spread your legs, Jen. As wide as they'll go."

Jensen shuddered against him, and Jared felt the sticky sensation of pre-come against his stomach when the other man shifted his hips, moving his feet outwards to spread his bent legs as far apart as possible. His thigh muscles trembled as Jared opened the lube with a snick and messily coated his fingers with the instruction, "Keep them spread."

Jensen's eyes fluttered closed, shadows of his eyelashes long against his cheek, and Jared paused for a moment, two of his lubed fingers circling his tight hole while he watched Jensen's chest rise and fall with shallow breaths, his pale skin reddened by the stubble on Jared's jaw. Without warning, one of his fingers thrust home quickly, pushing through the ring of muscle as Jensen let out a sharp cry followed by a low moan. Feeling him stretch with relative ease (and ridiculously turned on by the thought of Jensen prepping himself for him earlier), Jared slid two fingers in and out before releasing Jensen's hands and gripping his hips firmly.

He bit his lip to stifle a groan when Jensen's wrists stayed crossed submissively above his head, but the groan escaped anyway when he met his eyes, seeing his pupils blown with arousal as he writhed pleadingly in his grip. "Please, Jay..."

Lining his cock up, Jared let out a curse when he caught sight of the condoms on the bed and reluctantly let go of Jensen's hips, reaching up to snag a rubber when the other's hand closed around his wrist to stop him. "We don't- I'm clean. Can we just..."

As if Jared wasn't on board enough already, that was the final incentive he needed and, trusting Jensen, he took hold of his hips again, almost lifting him fully off the mattress when he positioned the head of his dick against Jensen's ass, grasping the smaller man tightly as he eased inside. Jensen tried to push down at the first entry, but was held still, and Jared saw his head fall back against the pillows with a cry when he slid all the way in, sheathing himself fully in the tight heat of his ass.

"Jesus, Jared..." Jensen gasped, struggling to catch his breath even as he ground out, "Fucking move..."

Never one to disregard his partner's wishes, Jared complied, beginning with slow steady moves in and out while they both adjusted to the sensations and position. Feeling Jensen start to follow his rhythm with ease, Jared picked up the pace, drawing a muffled yell from Jensen when he started to hit his prostate with almost every thrust. Smiling, Jared leaned forward to kiss him on the mouth and even with a short groan at the added weight of Jared's body on his bent legs, Jensen kissed back hungrily, tongue slipping against Jared's with apparent disregard for his damaged lip.

Wanting his hands free, he shoved a pillow under Jensen's ass, holding it at the right angle while he continued to thrust but now allowing him to pinch his nipples with his free hands.

"Christ!"

Jensen's head tossed on the pillow, eyes clenching shut when Jared's hand moved to his cock, smearing pre-come up and down the length as he stroked hard and fast. Pumping harder with his hand and his hips as he felt the familiar tightening in his own balls, Jared instructed between short breaths, "Open your eyes, Jen. Please. Look at me."

Legs shaking and fingers clutching the pillow, Jensen obeyed, slowly looking up at Jared with glazed green eyes while his hips rocked wantonly. "Jay, I need..."

"It's alright," he assured quickly, voice low and soothing. "Come, Jen. Show me how fucking gorgeous you are when you come."

A smile lingered on Jensen's lips before his head fell back against the pillows, throat bared and hips moving in time with Jared's. A few more smooth pumps of his hand and Jensen came with a shout, come landing thickly on his own chest and his body tensing so tightly that his own orgasm caught Jared by surprised. His eyes slammed shut and white sparked behind his closed lids as he spilled into Jensen's clenching ass, arms trembling with the effort of holding himself up. Lost in the thrum of pleasure, he collapsed on top of the smaller man, heaving chest encountering but not recognizing the warmth of the body beneath him until his senses started to return.

"Jay..."

Worried that Jensen's whisper was one of pain rather than pleasure, he rolled off him, dazed but mumbling an apology, "Sorry..."

Instead of receiving a slap for crushing him with his massive Sasquatch body, Jared smiled in tired relief when he felt Jensen's head rest against his shoulder. His breath slowly came back to him and he opened his eyes to see that a sticky mess of sweat and come was smeared across both of their bodies but that Jensen was lying next to him, looking up at him with an expression of exhausted satisfaction as he kissed his shoulder. "Thank you."

"You are so fucking welcome," Jared answered honestly, chuckling when he felt Jensen laugh next to him. Slinging an arm around his shoulders, he added, "You're amazing."

Jensen sighed reluctantly. "And I have to go."

Jared made a "Mneh" noise, holding him closer. "Don't have to go. Stay. My bed'll miss you."

"Your bed will miss me?" he repeated in amusement, and Jared started to realize he was more tired than he thought.

He continued regardless, "Yep. It'll pine and be sad and no-one wants that. Don't make my bed sad, Jen."

He felt Jensen smile again his shoulder but he still said ruefully, "I have to go..."

"Not yet," he countered stubbornly, cracking an eye open to look at the clock. (And when had his eyes closed again without him noticing? Tricky bastards.) "You've got a whole hour. A whole hour. Think of all the snuggling we could do." He fixed Jensen with his most serious look, trying hard to keep his eyes open throughout. "Snuggling is the most important thing ever. There were studies."

He didn't hear Jensen's response, beckoned instead by the sleepy comfort of the pillow, but before he drifted off completely, he was certain he felt the weight of Jensen's head settling back against his shoulder.

+++

A shrill ring dragged Jared from his slumber.

Drowsy and disoriented, he reached out to smack at his pesky alarm clock, only to find his hand colliding painfully with his lamp, his table and finally a squishy tube of lube The ringing mixed with the insistent barks of his dogs, and with a groan, Jared realized that the noise was coming from downstairs, with Sadie alerting him to the fact that there was someone at the door, and Harley alerting him to the fact that there was a possibly-edible stranger outside.

Rolling out of bed, he pulled on a pair of boxers and a robe, grimacing unhappily at the dried mess on his chest before realizing Jensen was no longer there (meaning that he'd left in the night and Jared had slept through it.) Sighing, he glanced at the clock, only to sigh even more deeply when he saw that it was now nearly eleven in the morning. Getting up on time had never been his strong point.

The doorbell rang again and he hurried downstairs, hoping it was Jensen coming to tell him that Jeff had accidentally got hit by a bus that morning and that he wasn't going to bother either of them again.

This hope was abruptly quashed when he opened the door to a slim brunette with a suit and a stern expression.

Fully aware of his unshowered and semi-dressed state, he shooed away his curious dogs before asking in confusion, "Uh, can I help you?"

"Mr Jared Padalecki?"

He nodded, giving her a tentative smile. "Yeah, that's me. Sorry, do I know you?"

"Mary-Louise Parker," she answered, offering her hand for the most perfunctory handshake Jared had experienced in a long while. "I'm representing Mr Ackles."

"Jensen?" He frowned, lost. "What do you mean 'representing'?"

Her pale lips pursed. "I'm Mr Ackles' lawyer. I'm here to discuss the possible settlement? My client feels it would be better to resolve this matter privately rather than engaging in court proceedings."

Jared blinked. "Whoa, wait. Court proceedings? What court proceedings? What's happened?"

The lawyer raised an eyebrow. "Pleading ignorance is definitely not your best option, Mr Padalecki. My client doesn't want to involve the police, but he is more than willing to simply have you arrested if you refuse to co-operate."

Stunned, Jared gaped at her. "Hold on: Jensen says he'll have me arrested? Why? What the hell am I supposed to be 'discussing a possible settlement' for?"

He then did his best to stay standing when she answered coldly, "I have been asked to inform you that if you do not wish to agree a settlement, Mr Ackles has more than enough evidence to have you arrested on charges of physical assault and rape."


	8. Chapter 8

Like all children who'd sat through basic physics, Jared knew the world was spinning.

True, he never remembered it spinning quite this fast before, but then he never remembered being accused of rape before either, so it was a day of firsts.

Waiting for everything to slip back into a comprehensible order, Jared nursed the faint hope that he might still be asleep, and that he was going to wake up any minute to find Jensen snuggled in his arms instead of Jensen's lawyer standing on his doorstep making impossible accusations.

"Mr Padalecki?"

Pretty certain that neither Jensen nor his alarm clock would say "Mr Padalecki" in a bored feminine voice, he blinked, coming back to earth as the lawyer asked again, "Mr Padalecki, are you refusing to discuss a settlement?"

He almost laughed in her face at how far down his list of priorities 'discussing a settlement' currently fell. Managing to stop himself in time, he stepped back from the door, stammering clumsily, "Come in, Mrs- Ms Parker." She raised an eyebrow but stepped inside, and he gestured toward the lounge, feeling like he was moving in water. "I, uh- Let me just go throw some clothes on. Have a comfortable- I mean, have a seat. Make yourself comfortable. I'll be there in two minutes."

She gave a small nod of agreement and walked into the lounge while Jared took a deep breath and tried to use his brief respite to think.

Thinking didn't help.

As he went upstairs to get cleaned and dressed, his mind leapt from one theory to another to another but couldn't find a single answer that would get rid of the sickness swirling in his stomach. He considered whether Jeff could've had a hand in it, ambushing Jensen when he got home and sending his lawyer round to scare him. He wondered whether Jensen had planned this before he'd even arrived, offering to sleep with him without a condom just so he could throw it back in his face later. He even contemplated whether Jensen had been attacked on his way home, getting assaulted and raped by someone else and for some reason not being able to tell the police the truth.

Veering wildly between hatred for Jeff, concern for Jensen, and the terrifying prospect of betrayal, he wiped himself down and threw on a pair of pants and a tee before mustering as much courage as possible and heading downstairs to face the lawyer-orchestrated music.

His dogs were silent as he rounded the corner to the lounge, with Sadie looking up at him with what passed for canine worry while Harley gnashed his teeth and eyed Mary-Louise like she was his next meal.

Giving both of them a reassuring pat on the head (and trying not to notice that his fingers were shaking as he did so), he took a seat on the couch opposite the lawyer, who began calmly, "Mr Ackles has set out terms for an agreem-"

"No."

Her composure faltered for the first time and she frowned at him in disdain. "You're refusing to negotiate?"

"Yes," Jared stated, pushing thoughts of Jensen to the back of his mind as he said firmly, "I'm not negotiating any goddamn settlements until you tell me what the hell it is that I'm supposed to be settling. What happened to Jensen?"

She gave him a disapproving stare. "I think you know what happened, Mr Padalecki."

"Would I be asking you if I did?" Jared shot back, aiming for confident but coming out pleading. Trying to present an unaffected facade, he started again, "What am I supposed to have done to him?"

The lawyer seemed prepared for this question, pulling out a file of documents from her briefcase and leafing through for a particular item. Jared frowned when he was handed a photocopy of a handwritten sheet, words like "attacked", "angry", and "held down" making his stomach drop as he skimmed it, but his breath caught when he saw the neat signature at the bottom.

"Jensen wrote this?" he asked hoarsely, and felt the room tilt when Mary-Louise answered in the affirmative.

"Mr Ackles composed a formal statement when he was released from hospital this morning."

Jared's eyes shot up to hers. "Hospital?"

The word was numbing on his tongue and he was absurdly grateful when she started to summarize the words which were blurring in front of his eyes, "According to Mr Ackles' statement, he came to your house after he'd left work yesterday evening." She checked her notes. "He claims that the two of you were watching a movie when you started to make sexual advances towards him. He refused, you got angry, and then you physically and sexually assaulted him."

Even her clinical tone couldn't prevent Jared from doing a double-take.

"What?"

Hating the idea that anyone could think that of him, he objected, "I never- It was consensual. He agreed... We agreed. Jensen wanted it just as much as I did; he enjoyed it, he-" He met her eyes. "I'd never force anybody. Ever."

"That's very noble of you, Mr Padalecki," she responded with a bored tone. "But I'm honestly not here to listen to your protestations of innocence. It doesn't matter what I think of you; my client believes he has enough evidence to see you charged and convicted of rape and physical assault, and all I'm doing is trying to spare him the stress of a trial. If you want to go through the courts, which I strongly advise against, then you can try to convince the police that you're the innocent party here." She smirked, confident and mocking. "As I said, I wouldn't recommend it."

Bristling at her words, he shook his head in confusion. "I don't understand... What 'evidence' do you have? Yeah, we had sex, but I didn't hurt him. We used lube, I-"

She cut in with a harsh laugh. "So your defense is "It's not rape because I used lube"?"

Jared wanted to scream in frustration. "It wasn't rape! The only thing you can prove is that I had sex with him, and I'm not denying that. I don't know what happened with Jeff or why Jensen's saying it was rape, but I never hurt him. I would never hurt him."

Mary-Louise "hmm"ed quietly, flipping through her file as she asked, "So how would you explain Mr Ackles' injuries? Did he ask for those as well?"

"Injuries?" Remembering the way Jensen had looked when he'd shown up at his door, Jared reasoned aloud, "He had a split lip when he arrived, but he said it was from a fight with Jeff. He was leaving him, and I..." His mind slid to the ensuing sex and he closed his eyes at the memory of his hands clamped around Jensen's wrists, pinning him to the bed as he ordered him to spread his legs wider. The image of the pleasure on Jensen's face flickered in his mind's eye and he hated the self-doubt that was creeping into his jumbled thoughts as the conversation progressed.

Appearing more certain than he felt, he stated, "We had sex. It was kinda intense but I didn't force him into anything. If I injured him, it was minor and accidental."

The lawyer's eyebrows shot up and she dropped a stack of glossy photographs on the coffee table, saying with pointed sarcasm, "Right. That looks minor and accidental."

Jared's gaze dropped to the table. It took a moment for him to register the content of the pictures, but his mouth dropped open when he did.

"Holy shit..."

Grabbing the photos, he sifted through them quickly, growing more stunned and wide-eyed as he worked his way through the pile. They were all of Jensen, some showing familiar areas of his face and body, but others capturing an seemingly insignificant region on his ribs or hips or back. The one thing they all had in common was the violent bruising which littered his body in a mess of smudges, blurs and imprints that marred the places Jared had kissed and caressed less than twelve hours earlier.

The color had been leached from Jensen's skin by the white of the hospital bed and the marks seemed to appear darker the more Jared stared at the pictures, settling into imagined shapes of fists and fingers as he tried to conceive of someone hitting Jensen hard enough to produce these. His rising nausea was assuaged slightly by the photograph of Jensen's bruised knuckles, proving that he at least tried to fight against his attacker, and by the shot of Jensen's face which showed that, despite his injuries, he was conscious and awake.

This faint relief only lasted until he reached the last two pictures and, at the sight of the ribbed bruises on his neck and the painful coloring of what had to be a broken arm, he dropped the photographs back on the table in anger, saying forcefully, "I didn't do this. Whatever Jensen's told you, I'm not the one who did this to him." It clicked in his mind and he theorized desperately, "It was Jeff; it had to be. He must've got angry when Jensen said he was leaving, and then beat the shit out of him and tried to blame it on me." The yawning lawyer jumped when he slammed his hand on the table and repeated loudly, "I didn't do this."

Regaining her composure, Mary-Louise gathered the photos up before replying calmly, "Again, Mr Padalecki, your claims of innocence are not my business or my concern. According to Mr Ackles' statement and from my meeting with him and Mr Morgan this morning, it seems that Mr Morgan was the one to take Mr Ackles to the hospital to get the treatment he needed after being assaulted by you." Jared opened his mouth to object, but she continued, "If you want to take the matter to the police and attempt to convince them about your theories, then that's your prerogative. I'm just here to try to avoid an unnecessary escalation of the situation."

"Unnecessary escalation?" he echoed in disbelief. "I've just been accused of rape! How is that not a fucking escalation?" Taking a deep breath, he tried again with as reasonable a tone as he could manage, "Look, let me call Jensen, alright? We can sort this out between us; just let me talk to him and find out what happened with Jeff."

He started to get to his feet and reach for the phone when he was interrupted by the lawyer's barked instruction of "No."

At his confusion, she explained, "Mr Ackles and Mr Morgan have requested that all your contact with them be through me." She gave him an insincere smile. "Obviously they're very distressed by what's happened and would like to avoid any further stress or trauma that may be caused by direct communication." Her hand moved to her briefcase in preparation to leave as she said knowingly, "If you'd like, I can inform my client that you don't wish to agree on an amicable settlement and would prefer to deal with this in court."

Jared's retort caught in his throat. Mind swamped with the consequences of being arrested for rape and the effect it would have on his friends, family and career, he pushed down the panic and said quietly, "Wait. This settlement, what are the terms? What does Jeff want?"

Giving him a wolfish smile, Mary-Louise settled back in her seat and pulled some papers from her file. "Mr Ackles," she began emphatically, "will guarantee that no future charges will be pressed, that all information, anecdotal and otherwise, about last night will be kept confidential, and that he and his partner will have no further contact with you. In return, he is asking that for two hundred thousand, and that you also refrain from contacting him or disclosing any information about the assault."

Jared blinked, astounded. "Two hundred thousand dollars?"

"Yes," she answered simply, depositing a contract on the table in front of him. "You can read through it to make sure everything's in order and then sign, print and date at the bottom of the second page."

She indicated where and Jared's stomach turned at the sight of Jensen's name and signature beside the empty lines. Deciding to deal with one distraction at a time, he stared at the number on the paper, asking again, "He seriously wants two hundred thousand dollars? For something I didn't even do?"

Exasperation started to show on the lawyer's face but she kept a neutral tone. "Mr Ackles has requested an appropriate figure based on medical expenses, legal fees and due compensation for physical and emotional damages. Compared to the expense of a trial and the likelihood of jail-time, this offer seems to be your best choice in my opinion." Jared ran a hand through his hair, skimming the small print of the contract as she continued, "Of course, if you wish my client to go to the police, don't sign."

"Wait, wait," he stammered, feeling the throbbing pressure of a headache building at his temples. "Can I at least have some time to decide? Let me think about this, let me talk to my lawyer..."

"By all means," Mary-Louise replied with feigned magnanimity. "However, I've been asked to point out that this is a limited time offer; if you don't come to a decision and make the settlement by this evening, Mr Ackles will be forced to involve the police."

"What?" Backed further and further into a corner, Jared argued weakly, "But that's extortion, you can't just-"

"If he wishes to press charges, Mr Ackles has a legal requirement to report the rape within a certain time frame. You're fortunate that he's allowed you even this much time to consider an agreement." She tapped her painted nails on the arm of the chair as she prompted, "Now, if you want to call a lawyer, that's your decision but I suggest you make your mind up sooner rather than later."

Overwhelmed, Jared racked his brain for someone to call, regretting the fact that all his legal contacts specialized in obtaining building permits and acquiring leases for properties. Coming up empty, he sighed and picked up the contract before leaning back on the couch and starting to read through it carefully. Despite the abundance of legal jargon, he couldn't find anything that contradicted the lawyer's summary and his gaze fixed on the signature line in preparation.

"Is there no way to reduce the payment?" he asked as a last-ditch attempt. "Could I not just speak to Jensen and try to work this out?"

"No," Mary-Louise answered bluntly. "You sign and pay the settlement by the end of business today, or Mr Ackles will be pressing charges tonight. It's a simple transaction."

She passed him a pen, and Jared's hand hovered over the paper nervously. Part of him wanted to throw it back in her face, to tell Jeff where to stick his outrageous accusations, and to confront Jensen about why the hell he was doing this to him. The other part, however, kept picturing the look on his mom's face if she found out he'd been arrested for rape. Confused and still overwhelmed by the situation, he felt as though he'd been submerged by the evidence against him, and the beat of headache still hammering away at his skull was punctuated by the fear that they had enough evidence to set him up, and the treacherous self-doubt over whether he actually had been too rough with Jensen the previous evening.

Terrified at the thought of jail and wanting nothing more than to make the pressure go away, he put pen to paper, signing and printing his name with a trembling hand.

Dating the contract, he looked back up at Mary-Louise, seeing her smiling slightly for the first time as she nodded in acknowledgement and got to her feet. "Thank you very much, Mr Padalecki. My client will be very grateful for your co-operation in this matter."

He stood too, and she passed him a business card with an array of numbers on the back. "The money should be paid into this account by the end of the day. You'll be contacted when the payment is received. If it's not paid in by the deadline, then the contract will be declared null and void and police proceedings will commence as quickly as possible." She fixed him with a steely gaze. "I advise you not to leave the area, Mr Padalecki."

Jared swallowed hard, the relief he felt at getting rid of the charges being balanced out by the solid weight settling in his gut. Wanting desperately to wake up from the whole nightmare, he ran a hand through his hair, barely hearing when she spoke, "I'll see myself out."

Nodding absently, he sank back to the couch, cradling the phone in his hands as Harley and Sadie padded back into the lounge, both looking as devastated as their owner.

Managing a half-hearted pat for each of them, Jared ignored Sadie's disapproving stare while he dialed Jensen's cell, needing some kind of explanation or reassurance. He stared out of the lounge window as it rang but disappointment hit him like a slap when the only answer was Jensen's voicemail.

He hung up with a sigh, knowing that starting a message with "I had a great time last night, except for the part where I woke up being accused of rape" wasn't the best of ideas. Harley nuzzled at his legs in comfort and Sadie climbed up to lay her head in his lap, and Jared let himself wallow in dazed shock for a few moments, still unable to wrap his head around everything that he'd just been told.

Sadie's wet tongue lapped against his bare arm and he pulled himself back to miserable reality, rubbing at his watering eyes with the heel of his hand and moving to look up the phone number of his bank.

+++

When the doorbell rang later that afternoon, Jared figured it couldn't be worse than the morning's house-call.

He'd spent the whole day emptying almost every account he had and wiring the money to the requested location. Even though he was fairly well off, he was not in a position where he could lose two hundred thousand dollars without breaking a sweat; with his accounts running dry, he figured he had maybe a month's worth of grocery shopping left in his current savings, but if he wanted heat, light and continued mortgage payments, he'd need to land some very large contracts in a very short period of time.

Trying to work out how he could get by without losing his home, he'd been surprised when the doorbell had gone, expecting a phone call rather than a personal notification that Jensen, Jeff and their lawyer had finally got what they wanted.

As he went to answer, he was fully prepared to encounter Mary-Louise for the second time, although some masochistic part of him was still clinging on to the hope that Jensen would show up on his doorstep and make everything make sense again. The more pessimistic part of him also experienced a brief burst of panic that Jensen had reneged on the contract after all and that it was the police showing up to arrest him, and so it was with relief that he pulled open the door to see that there was no squad car loitering outside.

He didn't even consider that there could be a worse option.

"Hey, kid. How's it going?"

Of all the people he'd expected to see, Jeff was not one of them.

Stunned at the man's presence, Jared made no attempt to answer his question and Jeff continued with a shrug, "I just wanted to let you know that the full two hundred thousand is sitting safely in our offshore account." He flashed him a cocky smile. "Thanks for that by the wa-"

Jared's fist collided with his face before he could finish the sentence.

Not knowing which of them was more taken aback by the punch, Jared watched Jeff stumble backwards, wincing in pain and holding his nose. When he'd regained his balance, he wiped the trickle of blood away, smearing it on the back of his hand, and looked up at Jared with a mocking smirk. "You shouldn't go round hitting people. Might get you in trouble with the law one day."

Temper flaring, Jared strode out of the house towards him, growling angrily, "You son of a bitch." He barely restrained himself from punching Jeff again but held back as he spat, "You know I didn't lay a hand on Jensen."

Jeff chuckled, strolling closer and stopping just out of Jared's reach. "But that's the problem, kiddo. You did lay a hand on Jensen. More than one actually." He grinned. "Jenny said you were pretty damn good with those hands."

Jared's lips tightened. "What the fuck do you know about it? Is that what he was told you before you beat the crap out of him?"

The other man's laugh was loud and harsh, and after hearing a threatening bark from inside the house, Jared pulled the door shut behind him to prevent Harley snacking on any important part of Jeff before he'd confessed his guilt. When he turned back to face him, he found the older man shaking his head, watching him with a pitying gaze. "Shit, kid, you still believe it, don't you? Fuck, you must've fallen hard..."

Jared crossed his arms defensively. "Believe what?"

"That Jenny's the innocent party in all this," he answered simply. "What, you think I'm the Big Bad Wolf who forced him into crying rape?" Jared knew his face had given him away when Jeff sighed and stepped closer, his voice low and calm, "Jensen was in this from the start, Jared."

"Bullshit," Jared retorted quickly even as uncertainty nudged at the corners of his mind. "He was going to leave you and you beat him up to stop him." He squared off against him, anger rising as he added, "I saw the fucking pictures. I know what you did to him."

Jeff wasn't fazed, that infuriating smile still lingering on his lips. "We had to make it look real, kid. Jen's a pro at this; he'll take a few hits and then add the rest on with paint and makeup. Damn convincing too." He winked at him. "Course, we didn't need to fake all of them. You left some pretty big handprints on my boy's wrists last night. What happened? Did Jenny want you to hold him down? Beg you to fuck him hard like the little whore he is?"

"He's not-"

"A whore?" He laughed. "What part of this are you not getting?" He stepped closer, saying slowly and clearly, "Jensen fucked you for money."

Jaw clenched, Jared shook his head in denial. "He didn't. You forced him to make that shit up."

"Son, I didn't force him to do anything. Jen's been playing you from Day One." Jeff's gaze was cool but not malicious as he elaborated, "As soon as he found out you had enough money, he's been reeling you in, hook, line and sinker." He smiled, saying cheerfully, "Hell, if half the guys at the club were this good at luring in suits, I'd be a goddamn millionaire by now." Jared's eyes stayed hard and Jeff added pointedly, "He's been keeping me updated too; we've had some fun conversations about you."

Chest tightening, Jared said shakily, his protests steadily losing conviction, "No. No, we- he's not like that."

"We talking about the same Jensen here? He's definitely like that." Jared shook his head again and Jeff raised his eyebrows. "Wait, the guy threatens to press rape charges against you and you still don't believe me? I'm not denying I was in on it, but Jenny knew what he was doing with you."

"He didn't-"

"Let me guess," Jeff interrupted bluntly. "Last night, he turned up on your doorstep looking like a lost puppy and saying you two were going to run off into the sunset together. He said he hated me, let you think you were his knight in shining armor, and then spread his legs and begged you to fuck him. Without a rubber, of course." He grinned. "Am I close?"

The previous night's events slotted neatly into the description, and Jared felt tears prick the back of his eyes even as he stayed quiet.

Jeff's expression became one of patronizing pity and he patted him firmly on the shoulder. "Buck up, kiddo. You're not the first one to fall for Jen's innocent act and you sure as hell won't be the last. Believe it or not, I'm trying to help you out here. Don't want you pining after him like some fucking lovesick puppy." He stepped back, moving away to his car with a broad smile, "Thanks again for the money, son."

He gave him another cocky wink before climbing into his car, and Jared sagged against the doorpost, too empty to even register anger anymore. Jeff's SUV tore out of the drive with a roar, and Jared stumbled back inside, slamming the door shut behind him as he tried to swallow down the lump in his throat.

Moments he'd shared with Jensen over the last three weeks rose unbidden to the forefront of his mind, seemingly harmless phrases, gestures, and glances scrambling themselves into indicators of betrayal. Previously happy memories distorted into ugly deceptions, and with his head in his hands he slid down the wall to the floor, feeling like he'd lost far more than money.


	9. Chapter 9

Jared was pretty certain that the five stages of grief did not include going through the menopause.

It had been a whole week since he'd watched Jeff drive off with a wink and two hundred thousand dollars of his money. Since his definition of "grief" included "finding out that the perfect guy you might sort of be in love with is a cold-hearted, double-crossing bastard who won't answer your calls", he figured that the solution to getting over Jensen would magically appear when he'd worked his way through the stages like a 5-Step program for heartbreak.

He'd started off well, the whole of Wednesday and Thursday passing in a haze of denial where he refused to acknowledge any of the lawyer-based or Jeff-based evidence against Jensen, and remained convinced that somehow the waiter was entirely innocent. He even went so far as concocting an elaborate theory involving amnesia, secret societies, and a hooker with a heart of gold, before reluctantly accepting the possibility that Jensen had been lying to his face for the last three weeks.

However, instead of then progressing neatly through anger, bargaining, and depression to arrive at acceptance, Jared had spent five miserable days yoyo-ing between anger and depression at seemingly random intervals. Through the duration of a horror movie, he would switch between harsh vitriol against the slutty teens who got laid then slayed, and deep sympathy for the debilitating childhood trauma which had led to the killer wearing a mask made of deflated balloons while he chased his victims through the sewers with a scythe.

Even when doing something as mundane as cooking dinner, he often found himself consumed with rage towards Jensen and Jeff, cursing everything from their deception to Jensen's unfairly alluring freckles and throwing plates of food across the room like the Incredible Hulk with a peanut allergy, and then two seconds later being reduced to a crying mass of confused devastation, slumped amid the broken crockery and hugging his dogs for comfort when they came to lay claim to the rejected food.

Jared was not a middle-aged woman, but he was beginning to think that this was what the menopause felt like.

The menopause was definitely not conducive to the healing process.

After spending days swinging wildly between moods, Jared had finally decided that he needed to take action (and not the kind of action that involved mixing rage-filled songs with emotional songs on his mental soundtrack. Norah Jones and Rammstein did not produce happy musical offspring.)

This action was how he currently found himself dressed in company-appropriate clothes for the first time in a week, sitting in his car, and heading one last time to Cut-n-Thrust. Admittedly, he wasn't entirely sure what he was going to say when he got there but he was in danger of becoming a social recluse if he stayed at home any longer and talking to Jensen, face to face, was the only way he was going to get any closure. (Getting to punch Jeff again would just be a happy bonus.)

His SUV wound its way through the dark Vancouver streets, the rain hammering down on his windshield and doing its very best to increase the uneasy feeling in the pit of Jared's stomach. He debated what to expect from Jensen, wondering whether he'd give him the same smug grin that Jeff had, coming off cocky and cruel, or whether he'd seem pathetic and transparent now that Jared knew what was going on underneath. Both thoughts made him feel a little sick, and he tried to ignore the part of his mind that desperately wanted to be fooled again.

Forcing himself to focus on the far more attractive prospect of punching Jeff, Jared slid the car into a parking spot at the side of the road, squinting through the rain in absent confusion when he realizing that the pink neon sign announcing the name of the club was switched off. Figuring someone had forgotten to flip the switch, he shrugged it off and wrapped his coat tightly around him before taking a deep breath and climbing out of the car.

The rain blasted him from all sides, pouring down on his head as well as being blown against his body by the wind, and he ran across the street to the sound of the downpour bouncing up from the surface of the road. Wanting to get inside and not look like a drowned rat when he saw Jensen, he dashed for the club's entrance and barreled into the door in anticipation of warmth.

"Ow! Fuck!"

Cursing aloud, he stumbled back from the locked doors, rubbing his shoulder and staring at the strip joint in confusion. This type of closure was definitely not what he was looking for.

Baffled, he mentally counted through the last week before confirming that yes, it was Wednesday and yes, the club should be open that evening. That didn't help to explain why the club was now closed and he huddled in the entry-way, trying to stay out of the rain while he looked for the probable sign announcing that Cut-n-Thrust was closed while Jeff redecorated it with the money he'd conned out of Jared.

There was no such sign, but Jared's mouth dropped open when he finally caught sight of the damp wooden planks which had been nailed across the doors. Eyes wide in disbelief, he staggered back out into the rain and did his best to shield his eyes as he looked up above the club's entrance to see a red For Sale sign bending under the force of the wind.

"Son of a bitch..."

His jaw clenched as anger burned through him, this time untainted by lingering sadness as he realized what Jeff and Jensen were intending to do with the money they'd stolen. Warmed by the fire coursing through his veins, he ran back to his car, revving the engine and speeding off towards their apartment with a prayer that they hadn't managed to leave town yet.

Insults and arguments ran through his head and he ground some of them out through gritted teeth in rehearsal. No longer wishing to find closure in an deceitfully amicable parting with Jensen, Jared let himself indulge in brief fantasies of retribution as he sped through the rain-slicked streets, wanting nothing more than to confront the pair of them before they left and to call them out for the lying, cowardly assholes that they were.

He decided God was on his side when he made it all the way across town without killing himself or anybody else and pulled his car to a second, far jerkier stop outside the apartment complex. Slamming his door shut, he ran inside, more out of eagerness for the confrontation than eagerness to avoid the rain, and sprinted up two staircases easily, long legs taking the steps two or three at a time.

He half-expected his anger to fade by the time he reached the apartment in question and was perversely relieved when it didn't, hands still curled into fists as he knocked on the door.

There was no answer and he hammered on the sturdy wood a second time before shifting from foot to foot, cracking his knuckles in anticipation of another well-deserved punch to Jeff's face.

When no-one came to the door, Jared raised his hand to knock a third time and was fully prepared to start yelling through the wood when he saw the door open a crack.

Seizing the opportunity, he stepped forward, only to be stopped by the chain pulling taut and preventing the door from being pushed back the entire way. Jared opened his mouth to object but closed it again when he saw Jensen's face edge tentatively into view in the opening, eyes widening when he saw who was outside his door.

"Jared?"

Hating the nostalgic fluttering in his stomach at seeing those green eyes fixed on his own, Jared let his anger surge up again when he saw the fading bruises on Jensen's face, remembering how they'd played on his concern for Jensen to trick him out of his money.

"Open the door."

His tone brooked no argument but, seeing Jensen hesitate, he ordered again, "Open the fucking door, Jensen. You owe me that much."

He felt a twinge of satisfaction when the other's eyes dropped guiltily to the floor, and waited impatiently as the door was closed and the chain removed. As soon as it re-opened, he pushed his way inside, striding into the middle of the lounge and looking at the cardboard boxes strewn haphazardly around the room.

Taking stock of the surroundings, and the apparent absence of Jeff, he turned around when the front door shut with a click, the insult spilling from his lips, "You fucking bastard." Jensen flinched at the words, head down as he stayed by the door, and Jared walked toward him, asking bitterly, "Did you get all the money you wanted? You and Jeff have a laugh about how easy it was to play me?" Moving closer, he couldn't stop the hurt slipping into his voice as he pushed, "You happy with making me think that I might actually have fucking hurt you that night?"

Jensen's eyes flickered up to his, his face still looking pale against the darkness of the bruises as he shook his head, pleading, "Jared, I-"

"Don't lie to me!" Jared yelled, the world going fuzzy around the edges as he advanced angrily. "Don't you fucking lie to me anymore. I've had enough of your sweet-and-innocent act to last me a lifetime." Vaguely aware that he'd stopped walking, he met Jensen's eyes as he asked with cold sincerity, "You proud, Jensen? After I saved your fucking life when those assholes nearly drowned you, are you proud of what you've done?"

"No." His voice trembled as he answered quietly, "No. I'm so sorry, Jared, please..."

Jared blinked at the plea, the world shifting back into focus through the red haze clouding his vision, and he realized that he'd backed a nervous Jensen up against the wall, towering over him as he'd spoken. Seeing the same fearful look on Jensen's face that had been directed at Jeff in the past, he stumbled backwards, asking numbly, "You think I'm going to hit you?"

The scorn he'd tried to inject into the question fell flat, belying Jared's own worry that he might've done just that, and he felt an odd rush of guilt when Jensen said quietly, "I wouldn't blame you."

Trying not to think about why the idea of hitting Jensen was still so repulsive to him, Jared changed the subject, more controlled in his anger as he inquired mockingly, "So where's Jeff? Should I be expecting him to jump out of one of these boxes any minute?"

Still cowering slightly against the wall, Jensen shook his head. "Jeff's- He's not here."

Jared frowned, wandering amid the boxes and looking casually inside some as he asked, "Where is he?"

Jensen shook his head again, and for the first time Jared noticed the cast on his arm as he edged away from the wall. "I don't know," he murmured in defeat. "La Paz, Buenos Aires, somewhere like that. He emptied our account two days ago and wouldn't tell me where he was going."

Jared's bark of laughter was short and sarcastic. "Aw, your partner dump you? Take all your hard-earned money and leave you high and dry?" He smirked, annoyed at being denied a chance to confront Jeff but more than happy with the payback for Jensen. "Sucks to be you, Jen. Guess you'll have to find someone else to run schemes with in the future. Hell, maybe you can go pull your innocent act on some other rich guy. You were happy enough to let me fuck you for money; I bet you could earn a good living as someone's pet whore."

Jensen's mouth fell open at the last suggestion, and Jared found his words catching in his throat at the expression of stunned confusion on the other man's face, his smug smile fading as Jensen stammered, "Jared, I don't- what we-" He swallowed hard, resolve in his eyes. "I didn't sleep with you for money."

The denial was what Jared had been longing to hear for the past week, but he smothered down the spark of irrational hope, instead retorting confidently, "Oh, really? 'Cause I seem to remember going to sleep with you in my bed and then waking up to some lawyer demanding two hundred grand for the fucking privilege. How is that not sleeping with me for money?"

"Because it wasn't like that!" Jensen protested, moving further into the lounge but staying out of Jared's reach. "When we had sex, I swear, I wasn't planning on doing this to you."

"So what, it was a spur of the moment thing?" he shot back harshly. "You get me to fuck you bareback, and then figure that you might as well cry rape and get some money out of it? You're lying, Jensen. You're still lying. Jeff's left you and now you're trying to talk your way out of what you did. Newsflash, Jen: you can't." He glared at him, hating the sting of tears against the back of his eyes. "You accused me of raping you. I read the statement, I saw the pictures, and Jeff gave me a pretty clear round-up of how you've both been playing me from the start. Yeah, I was an idiot for falling for you in the first place, but I'm sure as hell not stupid enough to do it again."

Pausing for breath, he saw Jensen shaking his head, his own eyes glinting as he pleaded, "Jared, whatever Jeff told you, it's wrong. I never meant to do this to you. I- I wanted to be with you, I wasn't lying about any of it..."

Curling his lips, Jared gave a sneer of disbelief, repeating again slowly, "You accused me of rape, Jensen. Rape. You wrote a whole statement about how I held you down and forced you to have sex with me." He ran a hand through his hair, unable to comprehend the logic. "How can you do that and then say that you wanted to be with me?"

Lost in his own confused anger, Jared almost missed Jensen's whispered reply, "Because he would've killed you."

Frozen, Jared stared at him as he felt the world start to shift beneath his feet again, although he couldn't tell in which direction. "What?"

With a hard swallow, Jensen met his eyes, saying softly, "He would've killed you. He had a gun to my head and that was the only way... I'm so sorry, I-"

"Wait," Jared interrupted, more sharply than he'd intended. "You're saying Jeff did this? He made you say it was rape?"

"I'm sorry," Jensen reiterated, hunching in on himself in response to Jared's tone. "I didn't want to, but there was nothing else I could do to get him to stop. All I knew is that you had money, and I thought that maybe if he..." He trailed off, ducking his head again. "I'm sorry."

Head swimming, Jared held up his hands to stop any more apologies. Desperately wanting to believe Jensen, he forced himself to be wary and not just launch himself at him in instant forgiveness. Taking a seat on one of the chairs that was not laden with boxes, he rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand and gestured to another empty seat as he said tiredly, "Sit down."

He watched closely as Jensen moved to the other chair, trying to pick up any hint of deceit or acting yet seeing nothing but genuine nerves and trepidation. Once he was seated, Jared leaned forward, doing his best not to sound too eager or sympathetic as he instructed, "Tell me what happened. From the beginning. Did Jeff know you were coming to my place that night?"

Perched on the edge of the chair, Jensen responded quietly, "No. We had a fight at the club - ask anyone there - and he sent me home early."

"When you showed up with a split lip," Jared cut in curiously, "was that real or did he give it to you for effect?" Jensen frowned and he allowed a small elaboration. "Jeff made it sound like you'd both done it on purpose so that I-" He bit back the rest of 'could be your knight in shining armor' and rephrased, "So that I would feel sorry for you."

Jensen looked down, touching his thumb to his still-healing lip at the memory. "It wasn't a trick. Jeff was angry and he hit me. Coming to your place was the only thing I could think of doing."

"And the sex..."

Jensen met his gaze, wet green eyes open and sincere. "There was no ulterior motive behind me sleeping with you. I promise. I wanted us to be together. Hell, I still..." He trailed off, looking back down at the floor as he moved on, "I left while you were asleep, but Jeff was already here when I got back. I tried to tell him I was leaving him, but he, uh, got mad."

His fingers toyed anxiously with the edge of the cast and Jared got a clear picture of how Jeff getting mad had ended. Looking over the still-visible bruises on Jensen's face and arms, he realized that Jeff had obviously been lying about them being added with paint and make-up.

Wanting to find out how Jeff had known the truth about other things, he prompted, "How did he find out what had happened with us?" Jensen looked confused again, and he explained, "When Jeff came to see me the next day, he said some things. Stuff about how you wanted us to have sex, and how we didn't use a rubber."

Biting his lip in shame, Jensen admitted, "I told him. When he found out we'd had sex that night, he wanted details. He asked about everything: where we had sex, who initiated, how good it was... I thought he was just jealous. I didn't know that he would use it like that."

"Why did you tell him?" he asked as gently as possible. "You didn't owe him anything; he had no right to ask."

"I tried not to," Jensen confessed. "I did, but he said he'd break my arm if I didn't answer. I was scared, it-" He glanced down at his broken arm with a timid shrug. "Guess it didn't matter anyway."

Jared closed his eyes, feeling like shit for making even the veiled accusation, but Jensen continued his narration before he could offer any apologies, "When he'd calmed down, he got his gun."

Jared held back a bitter laugh at the description, feeling it sit like ashes in his mouth when he thought about the prospect of a icy, controlled Jeff pulling a gun on someone. Attempting to be inconspicuous, he glanced around the room in search of any obvious bullet holes, knowing Jensen was giving him the fully-abridged version of events and wanting to understand for himself what had happened. However, he wasn't overly-relieved when he didn't find any casings or evidence of shooting, not doubting Jeff's ability to terrorize Jensen without firing any shots.

"What then?" he coaxed.

"He said he'd kill me," Jensen replied simply, but Jared heard his voice falter a little at the words. "He said he'd shoot me and then go to your house and shoot you as well. He told me to give him one good reason why he shouldn't." He looked up at Jared, begging for understanding. "I couldn't think of anything else. Money's the only thing he cares about, so I told him you were rich. I'm so sorry, I just- I didn't want to die."

The despair in his voice made Jared want to stop the interrogation and promise him that it was all over, but the part of him that remembered the betrayal and hurt of the last few days made him press on. "So you told him I had money. Did you offer to say I raped you?"

"No," Jensen answered quickly. "No. I don't know what I thought he'd do, but I had no idea it would be that. When I told him, he just walked around, talking to himself for a few minutes, and then told me what he wanted me to do. Said that as long as he got the money, he wouldn't kill either of us." His voice dropped as he continued, ashamed, "I wrote what he told me to for the statement and then he took me to the ER. He called his lawyer; they mentioned something about a settlement but wouldn't let me read what I was signing." His fingers twined together in frustration as he said, more to himself than to Jared, "I should've fought him. I shouldn't have just gone along with it-"

"Hey," Jared cut in, struggling to hold onto any semblance of anger toward Jensen. "You did all you could. God knows I'm not glad about what happened, but what you told me sounds way more likely than the story Jeff came out with. And if he threatened you... Fuck, Jensen, do you honestly think he'd have shot us?"

A flash of a memory passed through Jensen's eyes and a shiver shook his body as he nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"Then you did the right thing," Jared reassured, hating the way the platitude sounded so empty when he wanted it to say so much. "They were both shitty options, but for what it's worth, you picked the right one."

"Did I?" He swiped at his eyes with his non-damaged hand. "Jeff's cleaned out his accounts and disappeared, he's put the club on the market so everyone's lost their jobs, and I've got no way of even starting to pay back the money he took from you. From where I'm sitting, I made the wrong choice."

"No," Jared said firmly. "It was the right choice." Pushing himself to his feet, he picked his way over to him as he said, "If it's a choice between being dead in a gutter or broke, I'd take broke every time."

He reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, but was surprised when Jensen jumped up and backed away, upset. "Stop it. Just stop! I accused you of being a goddamn rapist, Jared - how the hell can you be nice to me?" Approaching slowly, Jared watched Jensen's determination crumble, tears finally starting to trickle down his cheeks as he said angrily, "I fucked everything up; Jeff got away, you lost your money, everyone's out of a job because of me..." He put up a token resistance, struggling weakly as Jared enveloped him in his arms, before murmuring against his chest, "It's all my fault. Everything. It's all my fucking fault."

His voice broke on the last words, and he buried his head against Jared's chest, body shaking with muted sobs when he dissolved into his embrace. Jared stayed silent, feeling the tension bound up in Jensen's limbs ebb slowly as he held him, and he rubbed soothing circles between his shoulder blades, careful of the injuries he knew would still be there. "Shh... It's okay, it's okay. We're all going to be okay." 

Finally, the waiter took an audible breath and looked up at him, eyes reddened but marginally calmer, and Jared managed a small smile, purposefully ignoring the evidence of Jensen's tears on his tee as he asked, "You okay?"

With a little more confidence, Jensen nodded and stepped back, cradling his healing arm to his chest and saying, "Yeah. I swear, I'll pay you back everything Jeff took. It might take me a while, but I promise you'll get it back."

Less concerned with his money than with the state Jensen was currently in, Jared glanced around the half-packed apartment, asking with light-hearted teasing, "How are you gonna do that, Jen? You planning on selling everything you own?"

He gestured to one of the boxes, and Jensen fiddled awkwardly with the hem of his shirt as he admitted, "I'll need to sell most of it." Jared raised his eyebrows and he explained, "Jeff hasn't paid the rent on this place in the last two months, and I didn't even know about it till the eviction notice came on Saturday."

"Shit," Jared swore sympathetically, looking at the stacks of boxes. "When do you need to move out?"

"Friday." He nudged a box with his foot. "I meant to get more packed by now, but-" He held up his broken wrist. "-it's kind of slow-going at the minute."

The important part of this revelation finally dawned on Jared. "Where are you gonna live?"

Running a hand through his hair, Jensen sighed. "I don't know. I'd ask Chris and Steve to let me stay on their couch, but since I lost them their jobs, I don't think I'd be real welcome right now." He shrugged tiredly. "I'll find somewhere."

"A magical somewhere where they'll let you stay for free?" Jared asked pointedly. "Jen, you've got no job, no money, and soon you're not gonna have any place to live."

Jensen shook his head helplessly, still looking drained. "I'm not seeing a way out of this."

"I can." Feelings warred with each other in his gut, and Jared sent up a quick prayer that he was choosing the right one when he said, "Move in with me."

Jensen's eyes went impossibly wide, and he choked back a laugh of disbelief while Jared simply watched him with an open smile. Eventually regaining the ability to form words, he asked, "What?!"

"Move in with me," he repeated, rocking back on his heels as the pleasurable feeling started to expand inside him. "It's a big house and I've got a whole guest room I'm not using. Y'know, just in case you're not up for sharing a bed with me."

Jensen looked to be on the verge of passing out. "Wha... Jared, you hated my guts five minutes ago. You should hate my guts - what I did to you was horrible."

Filled with a familiar warmth, Jared reassured honestly, "From your incredibly vague recap, I'm pretty sure what Jeff did to you was way more horrible." Jensen still looked skeptical and he tried again, "Look, Jen, I wouldn't be offering if I didn't want you there. We talked about this last week, before any of this happened, and as far as I'm concerned, not much has changed."

Jensen raised his eyebrows. "Not much has changed?! Jared, you're out two hundred thousand dollars because of me. I'd call that change."

He shrugged nonchalantly, feeling contentment wash over him again for the first time in a week, and said with complete honesty, "If that's the price to guarantee Jeff being on a different continent than us, that's fine by me. I do kinda regret not hitting him a couple more times before he left, but like I said-" He rested a hand on Jensen's shoulder. "-it's worth it."

"It's not-" Jensen began in stunned protest, but Jared held up a hand, his smile widening.

"I'm not taking 'no' for an answer, Jen," he announced with mock severity. "You're moving in with me instead of getting kicked out onto the street, even if I have to carry you to the car myself." He jokingly flexed his muscles and was pleased to see a slight smile cross Jensen's lips. "Now, do I need to carry you off or are you going to move in with me on your own two feet?"

Shaking his head in disbelieving amusement, Jensen reluctantly surrendered. "Okay. I'll move in with you, if you're sure this is what you want."

"This is what I want," Jared confirmed, taking a step closer and resting his hands on Jensen's hips. "And I know this isn't a quick fix. I get that things are messed up, and I'm not about to start bugging you for sex the second we get through the door, but I want to be clear on this." He met his gaze, hand coming up to cup the back of his head as he said, "I want to us to work this out. I want there to be an 'us'. If we get two months down the line and decide we can't stand living together, we can figure something out, but for now?" He dipped his head, lips almost touching Jensen's as he echoed the statement he'd heard a week earlier, "I want to be with you."

Carefully, he moved in, closing the distance between them as he kissed him slowly, tongue nudging at his lips with tentative strokes. Despite an initial pause, he felt Jensen's hands settle on his waist and smiled internally when his lips parted to allow Jared access. Both uncertain of the correct speed and etiquette, they took it slow, sliding with easy familiarity back into the motions and techniques that Jared knew he'd been missing over the last few angst-filled days.

Their foreheads rested together when they broke apart and they stayed like that for a moment, both of them breathing hard as Jared felt the world settle into order again around him.

"Thank you."

He blinked at the whispered words from Jensen, and pulled back to catch his eyes with a smile. "For what?"

"Everything," he replied sincerely. "Taking me in, giving me another chance, trusting me after what I did to you... Thank you."

Jared lightly kissed the bruise on his forehead, answering with equal sincerity, "You're welcome."

Before either of them could wallow in the events of the previous week for too long, Jared backed away, spreading his arms wide as he looked at the boxes littering the room. "So, which ones do we need for tonight? We can come pack up the rest of it tomorrow but I'm not down with sharing my toothbrush with you. I have standards."

Jensen smirked. "Standards? Jared, you eat food off the floor."

"Five second rule," Jared countered with a grin as Jensen handed him a small cardboard box. "It's a scientific fact. That pancake was perfectly nutritious."

Jensen wrinkled his nose playfully while he pulled on his coat and shoes before grabbing another box. "You're disgusting. Why am I moving in with you?"

"Because I wasn't kidding about carrying you back to my house," he replied cheerfully as they exited the apartment. "I could totally take you, dude."

Jensen rolled his eyes. "That's because you're a freaking yeti."

He disappeared around the corner leading to the stairs, and Jared couldn't stop the broad grin from spreading across his face at the fact that, even though Jeff had managed to bankrupt him and hospitalize Jensen, his bitter parting shot at keeping them apart had thankfully gone wide.

Smiling, he followed Jensen out to the car, wondering if a happy ending counted as the final stage of grief.


	10. Chapter 10

**Two months later**

Jared stared happily out of his car window.

The now-green neon sign stared back at him, still bearing the name of the Cut-n-Thrust strip club in all its Zorro-orgy-esque glory.

Seeing Jensen's beat-up Buick parked down a side road under a streetlight, Jared slid out of his SUV, making a brightly colored mental note to move "Get a better car for Jensen" to the top of the Things To Do When We Have Enough Money list. (Jared liked to think of his brain as a large wall covered in Post-Its, where only the most eye-catching notices received any attention.)

Consoling himself with the fact that Jensen actually had a car now and no longer had to hike five miles to work if Jared was busy with clients, he strolled across the street to the strip joint, sending up a hopeful prayer that the night's theme wouldn't be something that would scar him for life. (He still woke up in cold sweats after nightmares of Mike and Tom wearing hula skirts and strategically placed coconuts.)

He wasn't sure if the immediate sight of Chris and Steve stripping out of their priest outfits counted as divine intervention, but he decided to be thankful for small miracles.

A remix of Madonna's "Like a Prayer" pulsed through the club, and Jared smirked to himself at the whoops and cheers from the crowd as Chris took the "get down on my knees" part of the song literally. Trying to remember which tables Jensen covered on "Yay Blasphemy!" nights, he scanned the main room, seeing Tom swing a rosary around his head like a lasso and watching Justin slide a wad of bills into his thong but not catching sight of the presumably fully-clothed Jensen anywhere.

"Hey, Padalecki!"

Spinning in the direction of the voice, Jared's brief confusion over Jensen's new name for him was resolved by the sight of Chad who was lounging in a booth with a girl on each side, a scantily-clad Mike flexing cheerfully on the table, and an unsettlingly large grin on his face as he yelled again, "Yo, dickwad! Over here!"

Rolling his eyes, Jared headed over to the table and stood well out of the range of Mike's jiggling ass before asking sarcastically, "Because calling me over here by my name would be too difficult?"

Chad did not look remotely contrite. "Hey, I tried calling you by your name and you didn't come." He shrugged. "Dickwad was more motivational."

Jared sighed. "You're an ass." No-one disputed it, and he continued with actual interest, "So how's it been?"

Chad beamed. (Or rather, made an expression that was as close to beaming as Chad as ever got.) "It's been fucking awesome, man. There are so many horny chicks here, it's like picking fruit off the fucking vine. With a different fucking vine every single night." The slim brunette on his left glared at him, offended, and Chad gave her a comforting grope, correcting quickly, "Until tonight, baby. I'm a changed man now."

This faux-sincerity was accompanied by an entirely unsubtle wink in Jared's direction and he sighed again. "As fascinating as your sex life is, Chad, I was talking about the club. Everything working out for you?"

Mike answered for him, dropping to his knees and rolling his hips while two giggling women slipped bills into his boxers, "This guy's awesome. My pay went up like twenty percent last month."

Impressed, Jared looked back over to Chad who held his hands up in defense. "Dude, I don't want money that's been shoved up some guy's ass. What goes up there is his own business."

Translating this into non-Chad speak, he asked, amused, "You let the dancers keep all their tips?"

"Yep." He grinned. "I was totally made to do this job."

Jared nodded sympathetically. "It sucks that you wasted all those years learning to be an architect when all you wanted was to spend your time in gay strips clubs. Tragic, really."

"I know!" Chad replied earnestly, and Jared bit back a smirk. "This is, like, my calling, Jay. I know how to reel the chicks into this place and these guys know how to shake their dicks at gay dudes to make them spend more money. It's a match made in fucking heaven."

Looking up at Mike, Jared asked with genuine curiosity, "How are you not offended by this?"

Ignoring the "Hey!" of protest from Chad, Mike answered casually, "This is his way of giving compliments. I think we scare him."

"Hey, I've seen the size of that thing," Chad cut in, gesturing towards Mike's covered crotch. "You'd be fucking terrified too."

The clamor from the women suddenly increased in volume at this revelation and a grinning Mike winked at Chad. "Thanks, boss."

"I call it as I see it," Chad said with what passed for a professional nod before slapping Mike's ass in encouragement. "Keep it up, man."

Jared blinked. "Okay, I have sex with men on a regular basis and that may actually be the gayest thing I've ever seen."

Chad flipped him off. "Fuck you, bitch. I'm comfortable with my sexuality."

"You're a gentleman, Murray."

"Eat me, asshole." He took a swig of his beer. "How's it going with Daniels anyway? Did you end up using my designs for his house?"

Trying to recall Chad's original designs before he'd taken over the project, Jared groaned to himself when he remembered the blueprints. "The one that looked like a giant rack? Fuck, no."

"What?!" Chad looked genuinely upset. "That was a perfect design!"

"If it helps, Mr Daniels is very happy with his non-breast-shaped house," Jared offered. An uncontrollable smile spread across his face as he added, "He's just hired me to work on the new condos he's building by the waterfront."

"What?!" Chad's exclamation was a lot happier the second time around, and he got to his feet, leaning across the table to clap Jared proudly on the shoulder (and almost knocking Mike flat on his ass in the process). "Fuck, that's incredible! Congrats, man!"

"Thanks," Jared returned happily. "Looks like everything might work out after all."

The end of his sentence was lost to cheers and applause from the rest of the club, and Jared glanced at the stage to see Chris and Steve departing with a shimmy and a bow respectively. The first lines of a reworked "Heaven is a Place on Earth" started to blare from the speakers and he glanced round the club again, turning back to Chad when he came up empty. "You know where Jensen is? I can't see him on the floor."

"He's in the back," Chad called out over the noise of the new song, and Jared's brow wrinkled into a disapproving frown.

"I thought you weren't giving him the shitty jobs anymore?" he asked, tone slipping into accusatory. "These guys should really be able to wash their own g-strings by now, dude."

Chad looked vaguely nauseous. "Okay, one, that's really gross, and two, your boy's helping Chris out with something." At Jared's perplexed look, he elaborated, "He and Steve are having some domestic issue. One of them probably let rip during sex or something, I don't know, but if Jensen can stop them bitch-slapping each other in the middle of the club, I'm not gonna complain. He's backstage."

"Great."

He turned to go, rolling his eyes when Chad yelled after him, "Make sure he sorts Chris out before you two go fuck in the supply closet! Strippers before sex, dude!"

Usefully equipped with that life lesson from Chad, Jared wound his way through the tables to the backstage door, shaking his head at the noticeably phallic additions to the club's decor. Chad's talents had definitely been wasted as a serious architect.

Ducking inside, he wandered down the corridor to the dressing rooms and called hopefully, "Jen? You back here?"

"In here!"

The shout was followed by a wet slop and, reminded of Sloppy Joe day in the school cafeteria, Jared went in search of the noise, inwardly debating how he would feel about Jensen and Sloppy Joes in one delicious package.

Deciding that, like peanut butter and marshmallows, they would be best kept apart, he rounded the corner of the locker room and stopped short at the sight of Jensen on his knees in front of a mostly-naked Chris.

Eyes wide and mind flooded with unwelcome memories of Jeff, he learned from his mistakes the last time and knocked his fist against the metal locker before any kind of proceedings could get underway. As one would expect when slamming one's fist into a sheet of metal, this had painful side-effects, and he cursed loudly, stumbling into the middle of the locker room and holding his throbbing knuckles, "Fuck!"

To make him feel even worse, Jensen was on his feet beside him in an instant, eyes wide and concerned as he asked, "Jared, you okay?"

Feeling like an idiot, Jared allowed Jensen to ease his hand away and look at his knuckles before confirming, "You're fine. It's just a small bruise."

Pouting, Jared sank to a seat and rubbed his knuckles, trying not to think about how turned on he was by Jensen being all concerned and caring and nurse-like. After forcing a smile, he ignored his sore hand in an attempt to salvage what little was left of his masculinity and looked between Chris and Jensen with barely-concealed nosiness. "What were you two doing?"

"Jen was sucking me off," Chris replied openly and Jared had a minor heart attack in the five seconds it took for Jensen to punch him playfully on the arm and for Chris to crack up, admitting with a grin, "I'm just messing with you, man. Jenny's all yours."

"Damn straight," Jensen agreed, sending a smile in his direction while Jared tried to work out how to get air flowing back into his lungs.

Coughing, he looked pointedly between the pair of them and then up at Jensen with confused eyes, thanking whatever power in the universe had made Jensen able to understand not only Padalecki speak but also Padalecki I'm-too-busy-having-a-nervous-breakdown-to-talk gestures as he explained, "I was just oiling Chris up so he can go work the floor. Steve does it normally but..." He shot Chris an apologetic look. "They had a fight this afternoon. Chris 'accidentally' switched Steve's shampoo with cherry lube and Steve's still not talking to him."

"'Accidentally'?" Chris glared at Jensen. "I heard those air-quotes, Ackles. You believe him over me?"

"I'm not taking sides," Jensen insisted, smearing baby oil on Chris' back before wiping his hands clean and eyeing up the finished product. "I just think it's funny how the lube ended up in Steve's empty shampoo bottle."

"Hey, accidents happen," Chris defended. "And what do you mean, you're not taking sides? You should be taking my side here, Jen."

"I just rubbed baby oil into your ass," Jensen very reasonably pointed out. "I filled my good-friend quota for the entire month right there. Now stop complaining and go back out before Steve steals all your customers."

Pursing his lips, Chris left the locker room with something closely resembling a flounce and Jared turned his attention back to Jensen, who moved to stand between his legs, wrists crossing behind his neck as he kissed him softly on the lips. "Hey."

Jared rested his arms on Jensen's hips, tugging him closer as he murmured in return, "Hey."

He felt the tension of the day ebb out of him at the sight of Jensen's increasingly familiar smile of contentment, and slipped his fingers under the back of his tee to stroke at his bare skin as the other man asked, "How'd the meeting with Daniels go today? Did he give you another job?"

Jared's unquashable happiness returned. "Not just any job. He wants Jared Padalecki, Architect Extraordinaire, to design his shiny new waterfront condos. Gonna pay me a helluva lot to do it too."

His proud smile was outmatched by the one that spread across Jensen's face, and he was kissed again soundly, their lips and teeth clashing together as Jensen happily attacked him. Hands cupping his ass, Jared all but lifted him onto his lap, laughing against his lips as Jensen settled his knees either side of his thighs and met his gaze. "You're amazing." Jared opened his mouth to respond, but he cut him off, "And you're not allowed to waggle your eyebrows at me and make some dirty joke." He kissed him again. "You are amazing. Really."

Jared shrugged modestly. "After convincing Chad to buy a male strip club, getting people to employ me is a walk in the park."

Jensen laughed, hands coming up to play with Jared's hair as he contemplated teasingly, "I guess you deserve a reward then."

Jared did his best not to look like an over-eager puppy who'd been promised treats, but judging by the look on Jensen's face, he wasn't all that successful. Trying to play it cool and aloof, he inquired, "Reward?"

"Uh-huh." Jensen kissed his nose lightly. "A reward."

"Does this reward involve candy?" he asked with a hopeful grin.

Jensen shrugged, dismounting and getting back to his feet as he said honestly, "Actually, it was gonna involve sex, but I can go get you some Hersheys if you'd prefer that."

Jared gaped in dismay, feeling duped into refusing sex, and scowled when Jensen's serious expression dissolved into a telling smile. "That was cruel," he informed him sulkily. "I thought you were gonna give me candy instead of sex."

Jensen gave him a pacifying kiss, suggesting, "How about I give you sex now, and candy when we get home?"

Suitably cheered up, Jared pushed himself to his feet and cupped Jensen's face with his hands as he pressed a sloppy kiss of gratitude to his lips. He grinned when Jensen made a noise of protest, batting his hands away as he wriggled out of Jared's grip and wiped his mouth with an over-exaggerated grimace. "Dude, your dogs are less drooly than you."

Jared wasn't fazed, gazing at him fondly. "This is why I love you."

"Because you like slobbering on me? Hate to break this to you, Jay, but if that's love, you're cheating on me with your pillow." Before Jared could explain that no, he did not love Jensen for his slobber-withstanding abilities, the waiter pulled out what looked like a dishrag and laid his hands on his shoulders. "Turn around."

Being manhandled so that his back was to Jensen, a confused Jared went with the movement and turned another half-circle so he was back facing Jensen.

Jensen sighed.

"No, Jay, turn round so I can put this on you."

Jared looked suspiciously at the dishrag. "Put that on my what?"

"Over your eyes," Jensen explained as though it was the simplest thing ever.

Jared was apparently simpler than the simplest thing ever. "Why?"

Jensen's focused expression softened a little, fingers playing with the rag as he spoke quietly, "I might have planned something for tonight."

"Planned something?" Jared's eyes lit up. "A sex something?" He frowned. "Wait, how did you know to plan a sex something? I didn't know I'd got this contract until this afternoon."

The other man sighed. "Do I need to have a reason for surprising you? I just wanted to do something nice for you for once."

"Jen, you always do nice stuff for me," he reassured quickly. "You clean the bathroom, and feed me pancakes, and eat my cooking even when it's fucking awful, and sometimes let me win at Halo 3, and wear those panties when-" Realizing he was actually attempting to talk Jensen out of whatever he had planned, Jared shut himself up, flashing Jensen a grin before turning his back and announcing, "You know what? Never mind. You wanna plan sex somethings, you go right ahead. I will be a willing participant." The dark material came down over his eyes and he wrinkled his nose. "Is this clean?"

He heard Jensen chuckle behind him and chide, "Willing participants don't complain." A hand closed round his upper arm and he felt himself being led out of the locker room and back down the corridor towards the loud music. His attempts to concentrate on the direction were foiled when Jensen teased quietly, "But yes, it is clean. No-one's managed to spit their drink all over the table yet this evening."

Jared discovered that it was hard to glower when blindfolded. "Are you ever going to let me live that down?"

Even though his eyes were covered, he could swear he heard Jensen's shit-eating grin. "Nope."

He felt the linoleum change to carpet beneath his feet and heard the click of a door locking, but continued to argue amicably, "Hey, you're not so perfect yourself, especially with all your "J'red… Ge' th' ligh's"."

From the brief silence, he guessed Jensen was pouting before he slipped the thick coat off Jared's shoulders and answered (poutily), "I mumble when I'm sleepy."

"Well, I spit when I'm surprised," he countered defensively. "It's a natural reaction-"

He let out a small oomph when he was guided to a seat, and felt the warmth of Jensen's hands on either side of his face as the other man commented, "Guess I should get out of firing range then. Wouldn't want to get in the way of your 'natural reaction'."

"Shush." Hearing music playing, a little quieter than in the main area of the club, Jared tilted his head curiously and squeezed the soft padding of the seat under him before reaching out in search of Jensen (and feeling a little like a blind zombie as he did so.) "Where are you?" His hand hit flesh and he cringed at Jensen's surprised exhale. "Oh shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" Flailing in his panic, he yelped when he accidentally smacked his hand into another part of Jensen and then brought his arms to his chest, trying not to cause any more injuries. "Fuck! I'm sorry, I-"

He shut up when the cloth was removed from his eyes, and blinked in confusion, seeing Jensen standing in front of him in a room that he'd never seen before. Casting his eyes round the mirrored walls, the lit-up central podium, and the almost-circle of booth seating that surrounded it, he guessed this was one of the club's back rooms, where dancers conducted private performances. Struggling to picture Jensen having the confidence or inclination to hop up on the table and decide he was too sexy for his shirt, Jared frowned, looking back at his boyfriend in confusion.

Reading his expression, Jensen assured quickly, "Don't worry, I haven't been taking lessons from Mike." He shrugged, some of his lingering shyness returning, "I just figured that we could have some alone time. I know we've not had much time off recently, what with you taking over so many of Chad's projects, and the club reopening, so I wanted to do something for you. To help you relax."

Tugging him closer, Jared said with an easy smile, "Then you're obviously incredibly talented because I am totally relaxed." His smile faded a little when he held Jensen's gaze and asked with concern, "This isn't one of those 'I feel guilty so am going to offer Jared sexual favors' brainwaves, is it?"

Jensen's hesitation was answer enough, and he sighed, pulling him on top of him in the same position they'd adopted in the dressing room earlier. "Jen, we've been through this. Lots. I thought you weren't going to do this anymore? Especially not after the blow job thing." He still felt bad at the memory of Jensen dealing with his guilt by going for a deep-throat record and subsequently passing out from lack of oxygen.

Again Jensen didn't answer, dropping his eyes to the floor as Jared continued, "Dude, you don't owe me anything." He reconsidered. "Okay, you do owe me a new toothbrush after letting Harley get his paws on my other one, but what happened with Jeff is over. I'm okay, you're okay, everyone else in this place is absolutely okay now that they've got Chad in charge. You need to stop worrying about it."

He felt like he'd kicked a puppy when Jensen looked up at him, biting his lip and looking utterly miserable as he murmured, "I just wanted you to enjoy yourself."

"I do," he promised quickly. "I will. I have no problem with you pulling me into the back room of a strip joint to have sex, Jensen. Hell, I pretty much never have a problem with anything that involves me, you, and sex, but if you're doing this, I want you to do it for the right reasons. I want you to enjoy it as much as me, rather than counting it towards some big sex account sheet you've got stored in that ridiculously analytical brain of yours." He fixed him with a mock-severe stare as he stated, "You are not a pimp. You do not get to count up how much sex is worth."

He was relieved when Jensen smiled, rolling his eyes at the comparison and looking far less miserable as he observed, "Y'know, you're the only guy who's ever complained about me taking my clothes off for him."

"What can I say, I'm special like that," he shot back cockily. "And if you make a special needs joke right now, you're sleeping on the couch tonight."

Jensen held up his hands. "No special needs jokes. Promise."

"Good." He settled back on the cushions as Jensen got back to his feet, asking him one last time, "So you're definitely alright with this? Not thinking about Jeff?"

Jensen smirked, reciting teasingly, "I'm not thinking about Jeff."

Grinning, Jared gave him his best puppy-dog eyes. "Humor me?"

Lips pursed, Jensen pondered for a moment before offering, "Jeff got lost on the way to a Bolivian airport and got eaten alive by a hungry boa constrictor."

A warm fuzzy feeling, not usually associated with tales of death by boa constrictor, spread through Jared's body and he nodded his approval. "I like that one. Let's pretend that one actually happened." He scrunched his nose up in annoyance. "Great. Now I'm thinking about Jef-"

Displaying his incredibly impressive skills in getting Jared to shut up when necessary, Jensen's fingers hooked under his black tee, pulling it up and over his head and reducing Jared to stunned silence in the process. Brain jumping from "Ooh, shiny" to "Mine mine mine want want want" to "Ooh, shiny", he voiced the last one aloud, cocking his head and murmuring, "You're shiny."

Lit from behind by the podium, Jensen shrugged nervously, inadvertently drawing Jared's eyes back to his defined chest and abs. "I did myself before I did Chris. It is okay, isn't it?"

Jared didn't think he had enough words for how just okay this was. Despite thinking the other strippers looked greasy (for lack of a better word) when they were oiled up, the baby oil seemed to enhance Jensen's skin, making it look a little darker, a little smoother, and a lot more lickable. Deciding that pouncing on Jensen like he was a human-sized popsicle was not a sufficient answer, he settled on a more verbal "It's great. Really." Deep breath. "Holy fuck, it's great." He grinned at him. "I feel kinda bad that I haven't got any ones to shove down your pants."

Turning his back to him, Jensen spoke innocently over his shoulder. "I take fifties."

Watching the tilt of his hips as he toed his shoes off, Jared licked his lips when Jensen rolled his shoulders slowly, vaguely in time to the beat of the music from the main club but mostly at the speed which suited them both. Turning back to face him, he moved to stand between Jared's spread legs, hands behind his back as he invited, "Audience participation is more than welcome."

With a special level of enthusiasm reserved solely for getting Jensen naked, Jared's hands flew to the other man's pants, one resting comfortable on his hip as the other pulled his fly down with painstaking slowness, taking the opportunity to palm Jensen's half-hard cock as it did so. His fingers trembled slightly when he opened the button, and he was glad when Jensen took over from there to push his pants down his strong legs and off his feet, taking his socks with him while Jared hastily worked his own cock out of his jeans and underwear.

Doing his best not to drool at the sight of a barely clothed and almost glowing Jensen between his legs, Jared felt his breathing start to quicken as Jensen's hands moved to his shirt. Fingertips never touched skin and he shivered as Jensen's nimble fingers worked their way down his chest, material falling open over his torso and exposed nipples hardening in anticipation of his touch.

Biting his lip, he let Jensen push the shirt off his shoulders, warm breath ghosting across his collarbone, and squirmed when he turned his attention to his jeans. His cock ached when Jensen eased the material over it and Jared lifted his hips to allow him to drag both his pants and boxers down his legs, stroking his dick firmly while Jensen knelt at his feet to remove his shoes and socks.

With a heroic amount of self-restraint, he forced his hand away from his cock when he felt kisses sprinkled like sugar across his feet. He parted his legs wider while Jensen alternated kisses between his ankles, working his way slowly up the inside of each leg and leaving Jared torn between laughing at the ticklish sensation and moaning at the stimulation the light touches were sending to his cock.

Really not wanting to end that night's activities by coming from having his thighs petted, he looked down at Jensen - or more specifically, Jensen's remaining underwear - and sulked good-naturedly, "You're wearing too many clothes, Jen."

Smiling, Jensen stood up, and Jared's restraint did not stretch far enough to avoid running his hand slowly down his smooth chest, fingers pinching his nipples briefly before catching the front of his black boxer shorts and tugging in encouragement. "Off."

Jensen sighed. "Y'know, I had pictured this as lasting longer."

Jared raised his eyebrows, saying sarcastically, "Really? 'Cause I have such a good track record of being patient when it comes to getting you naked..."

"Alright, maybe I didn't," Jensen corrected, letting Jared pull his boxers down and greedily grope his ass until he got rid of them altogether. "But I have got one more thing to tell you." Pushing him against the soft seatback, he straddled him easily, long legs gleaming in the dim light and ass rubbing purposefully against Jared's bare length as he whispered in his ear, "I was thorough with the baby oil. Very, very thorough."

It took a moment for Jared to understand Jensen's implication, and another very long moment for him to stop himself from coming on the spot at the image of Jensen prepping himself very, very thoroughly for his benefit.

"Holy shit, Jen."

The combination of that mental picture and the shy smile on Jensen's lips at his soft curse left Jared needing another moment to regain his increasingly unstable composure. Finally reaching a level where he didn't feel like he was liable to shoot any second, he looked up at his boyfriend with a grin, "You're goddamn amazing, you know that?"

Resting their foreheads together, Jensen acknowledged, "I'm very practical."

"Amongst other things," Jared teased back. "Gotta tell you, dude, you're gonna be edging into the cocktease category at this rate." He groaned when Jensen again ground his ass back against his sensitive length. "You're killing me here. I hope you know that. Literally killing me. I'm gonna die from Jensen-itis." Jensen trailed slow, wet kisses down his throat, still brushing Jared's dick and he clenched his eyes shut, speaking aloud to distract himself, "They're gonna put it on my tombstone. My death certificate will have a picture of your ass attached as cause of death."

Nipping at his earlobe, Jensen asked sweetly, "You want me to stop?"

"God, no."

Apparently satisfied, Jensen slid his hands behind Jared's neck and pulled his lips to his own, the contact hard and fast and rough as his tongue plundered his mouth. Letting the waiter control the kiss, Jared smoothed a hand over the planes of his back before cupping his ass, fingers nudging gently at his lubed hole. Teasing the ring of muscle, he chuckled when Jensen arched up, breaking the kiss and pushing back onto his fingers eagerly.

Gripping his hip with one hand, Jared pulled the other away before he could get anywhere and grinned cockily, tongue between his teeth. "Ah, ah..."

Jensen wiggled impatiently in his lap before relenting with a playful smile, "Okay, okay, I get the point."

Jared leaned up to catch his lips again, gasping into the kiss when Jensen moved in his lap and positioned himself so that the head of Jared's dick pressed against his clenching hole. Both breathing heavily against the other's mouth, they exchanged messy kisses, licks and sucks as Jensen lowered himself down, Jared's hands clutching desperately at his hips as he fought the urge to buck up and drive himself home.

Twin groans ripped from them both when Jensen suddenly sank down fully, sheathing Jared the rest of the way inside. Before Jared could sort the sensations out in his mind, the other man started to move, fingers clinging on to Jared's shoulders tightly and knees digging into the seat as he rose up and down. With Jensen setting a fast pace, Jared rocked his hips to meet him, his tongue tracing a wet path up Jensen's sweat-caked throat to taste the tang of salt on his skin.

Shuddering, Jensen murmured breathily, "Jay..." and Jared kissed his collarbone in response, not trusting his voice to speak.

Still riding him hard even as his head dropped to his shoulder, Jensen twined his fingers in Jared's hair, tugging his head back and returning the swipe of tongue against skin before biting down on the crease of muscle between shoulder and neck. Jared arched, heels digging into the carpet as he thrust up into Jensen who in turn cried out loudly, pleasurable curses dripping from his lips like honey.

Entranced by the sight, Jared closed his hand around Jensen's cock, slicking it up and down with his pre-come and stroking fast as he watched Jensen bite down on his lower lip in an effort to stifle his shouts. Balls tightening from the feel of slick hot pressure around his cock, Jared stroked harder, loving the moans and whimpers the dual stimulation coaxed from Jensen.

He tried desperately to hold off, wanting to see the other man lose control before he did, and a final twist of his wrist on the upstroke was rewarded by a yell from Jensen. He watched his eyes fall shut, his own name spinning from Jensen's lips as he came hard, but Jared barely registered the splatter of come across their bodies before the clenching pressure sent him flying as well with a matching shout. White flashed behind his eyelids, and he wondered for a second if his earlier joking had come true and if he'd actually managed to die from coming too hard.

"J'red?"

Blinking his eyes open at the familiar sound of Jensen's sleepy mumble, he felt the numb exhaustion in his limbs slowly disappear, replaced by fizzing satisfaction which sparked its way through his nerves. Jensen's weight rested on his chest, and his gaze finally focused on the tousled head lying contentedly on his shoulder. "S'ossum..."

The vibrations of his own chuckle felt foreign in his chest as he grinned at his boyfriend. "Was that sleepy-Jen talk for "That was awesome"?"

"Y's."

"Then I concur." Stretching out with a groan, he shifted position with much protest from his limbs, and let himself sprawl happily over Jensen's slumped form as he contemplated without enthusiasm, "We should probably get out of here before someone else wants the room."

Jensen lifted his head from its position on Jared's chest and finally managed to form words to make his displeasure known. "Don't care. Chad owes me for putting oil on Chris' ass."

Jared groaned melodramatically. "Can we not mention Chris or his ass? I'm trying to enjoy my afterglow here."

Jensen smiled into his chest, relaxing again as he murmured, "No ass. Got it."

Their breathing was the loudest sound in the room for a few long moments, the rhythm of each inhale and exhale more compelling than the beat of the music pounding through the club.

On the edge of sleep, he heard Jensen yawn before asking drowsily, "Jared?"

"Yeah?"

Jensen's eyes glinted mischievously as Jared looked down at him. "Still think I should be a stripper?"

Jared tilted his head in contemplation.

"Nope." Jensen's brow wrinkled and he bent his neck to kiss it lightly. "Because then I'd have to take out the whole clientele for looking at you." He kissed him again. "And that'd suck."

Jensen 'hmm'ed in agreement. "Murder is never good." He sighed sleepily. "So, guess I'm stuck being yours then?"

Jared grinned, feeling Jensen snuggling into his arms, and answered quietly, "I can live with that."


End file.
